The Garrett Jeffrey Hobson Saga
by Tracy Diane Miller
Summary: The legacy of The Paper is passed on to Gary's son, Garrett.
1. Default Chapter

The Garrett Jeffrey Hobson Saga  
  
Summary: The legacy of The Paper is passed on to Gary's son.  
  
Disclaimer: Jennifer Hobson, Jeffrey Metcalf, Jr. and Garrett Jeffrey Hobson are my own creations. Early Edition characters belong to whoever created them. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made.  
  
This story is part of the continuing series that began with "Mirror Image." "Mirror Image" was an Early Edition/Homefront crossover story where Gary was inexplicably transported to 1946 River Run, Ohio and met and bonded with his mirror image, aspiring baseball player, Jeff Metcalf. "To Love & New Beginnings" is the sequel to "Mirror Image." In "To Love & New Beginnings", a broken-hearted Gary, now back in his own time period, meets and falls in love with Jennifer Szabo Metcalf, the spunky actress and granddaughter of Jeff Metcalf. And in "Destiny Fulfilled", the newlyweds, Jennifer and Gary, await the birth of their first child and confront enemies from the past and present.  
  
Anyone interested in reading my continuing series can find them at Phoenix Arises: The Fanfiction Store at the web site address that appears below:  
  
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/jennifermetcalf214  
  
Author: Tracy Diane Miller  
  
E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com  
  
  
  
Chapter 1- Heir Apparent  
  
He was running on pure adrenaline as he pushed his body forward; he was running so fast that his legs almost couldn't feel the pavement anymore. All of those years playing baseball and football had definitely paid off. He knew that he had to reach Lake Shore Drive in time to prevent the impending tragedy. And he needed to get back home in time to change into his cap and gown. If he were late for his college graduation, Mom would kill him!  
  
Garrett Jeffrey Hobson was his father's son, no question. He had inherited Dad's height and build, dark hair, thick eyebrows and beautiful mud green eyes that sparkled expressively. But he had also inherited the trademark Gary Hobson stutter that manifested whenever he was excited or nervous. And like his mother, he was impulsive and stubborn and he talked very quickly and sometimes slurred his words. Further, he had been endowed with the legendary Metcalf temper that had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion.  
  
But Garrett had inherited an even greater legacy. He inherited The Paper and the responsibility of saving lives. That was something that neither of his parents had wanted for him. Dad, in particular, had done everything to shield Garrett from knowledge of The Paper and its accompanying burdens. However, Fate had other plans for the handsome, soon to be college graduate.  
  
Dad had been seriously injured effectuating a save a few weeks ago. It was a convenience store robbery. Dad had saved an elderly woman and had taken a bullet to his right leg. Dad had lost a lot of blood before the ambulance had arrived. The doctor said that Dad was very lucky to be alive. As a result of his injury, Dad had been walking around on crutches. A couple of days ago Dad began using a cane. Nothing was going to make him miss his only child's graduation. Dad had worried about The Paper. Without missing a beat, Garrett had offered to assume the responsibility. Dad said no. He told his son that he would figure something out. But Garrett was tenacious providing several arguments as to why he should take care of The Paper. Four mud green eyes locked. The young adult pleaded with his father. He was ready, but more importantly, it was something that he wanted to do. He wasn't a baby anymore and they couldn't protect him forever. He promised to be careful. Dad and Mom exchanged worried looks. There was a long and excruciating silence. Finally, Dad handed him The Paper. Dad smiled at him, that smile a mixture of pride and concern. Then Dad hugged him tightly. He could feel Dad's body shaking. It wasn't the first time that he had felt Dad's body shake like that.  
  
He remembered. He remembered the day that he'd discovered Dad's secret.  
  
Historians say that there are Seven Wonders of the World, but they are wrong. Actually, there are eight wonders, but the eighth wonder often goes unrecognized. Yet, the eighth wonder is more puzzling than all the other wonders meshed together. Parents. Parents are a big enigma. A kid could go crazy trying to figure them out.  
  
His parents were no exception. Growing up, Garrett witnessed Mom and Dad's constant displays of affection. They kissed so much that they were like Siamese twins joined at the lips! Maybe other kids' parents behaved the same way so it was no big deal. But Mom and Dad's professional lives provided wonderment. Not every kid grew up with a Mom who was a television star. To him, she was Mommy. She baked him cookies, helped him with his homework, taught him how to ride a horse, and tucked him into bed at night. But to millions of strangers, she was Jennifer Metcalf, a beautiful and glamorous television star. She appeared on talk shows and graced magazine covers. And when they went grocery shopping and he begged her to let him have the good, sweet cereal that had a prize in the box not the stuff with bran that mothers insisted were important for regulating a child's system, strangers would come up to Mom and ask her for her autograph. Mom would smile and then write her name on a slip of paper. And those people would get all giddy and seemed so happy just to have Mom's name on a slip of paper. Once when he was seven years old, he volunteered his autograph. Using his best penmanship (reinforced by the nuns in his Catholic school), he neatly wrote down his name "Garrett Jeffrey Hobson" on a slip of paper and handed it to the cashier at the checkout line. The woman flashed him a confused look. No gushing. She didn't seem very impressed.  
  
But Dad's job was a greater mystery. Dad said that he owned McGinty's with Aunt Marissa, but Dad was never around to help her. Dad would read his paper in the morning, get a serious look on his face, stuff the paper in the back pocket of his jeans, and then rush out of the house. Dad acted like that everyday and he always carried his paper with him wherever he went. He asked Mom, Uncle Chuck, and Aunt Marissa why Dad always carried his paper with him, but they just said that Dad liked to read. One time he overheard Mom tell Dad to be careful before Dad hurried out of the house. Garrett's overactive imagination had him convinced that Dad led a double life; yes, that was it, Dad was like James Bond. Dad had to be careful not to let the bad guys find out about his family and friends or else their lives would be in danger. Garrett wondered about the kinds of gadgets that Dad used on his "missions". Perhaps Dad had one of those cool cars with the ejection seats. And maybe Dad's watch wasn't really a watch but a walkie-talkie to enable him to communicate with a command center.  
  
When Garrett was eight years old, some kids in the school yard were teasing him about Dad. They kept calling Dad very bad names. They said that Dad was a crazy man who went around setting up bad things to happen so he could then rescue people like Superman. This one kid said that Dad belonged in jail. Well, he wasn't going to allow anyone to talk about his dad like that. He demanded that the kids apologize for what they had said. Most of the kids took awhile, but eventually they did say that they were sorry. But the kid who said that Dad belonged in jail refused to apologize. That boy just laughed and added that one day the police were going to catch Dad and put him in jail for a very long time. Garrett became consumed with anger. The next thing he knew he had punched the kid in the face knocking the boy to the ground. Garrett felt the principal's arm grab him and he was taken to the office. He was suspended for three days.  
  
Garrett had been showered with love by his family and friends. Even after his little sister Kathryn Lois was born when he was four years old, Garrett was still doted on by his parents and maternal and paternal grandparents. Uncle Chuck and Aunt Marissa also spent a lot of time with him. And he had the most wonderful great-grandparents that had ever lived. Garrett developed an especially close relationship with his great-grandfather. Great-granddad Jeff was the best. His great-granddad taught him how to play baseball. Not every kid was lucky enough to have a great-granddad who had been a famous right fielder with the Cleveland Indians. And great- grandmom Ginger spoiled him by making him chocolate cake and other goodies that Mom and Dad wouldn't let him have. Sadly, Garrett experienced his first tragedy the day after his ninth birthday. For his birthday, great- granddad bought him a new baseball glove and a shiny new bat. They planned to go to Lincoln Park to practice. However, the next day, November 17th, he learned that his great-granddad had died peacefully in his sleep. Great- granddad hadn't ever been sick. And just two weeks later, great-grandmom Ginger died the same way. It seemed as if she had missed great-granddad so much that she couldn't live without him.  
  
The next year, when Garrett was ten years old, the Hobsons faced their greatest tragedy when a drunk driver killed Kathryn. The car had careened onto the pavement near her school and struck Kathryn where the six-year-old had been standing with two of her friends. It was Uncle Chuck who had delivered the sad news to Garrett. Fighting back his tears, Uncle Chuck told him that Dad was there when Kathryn died. Garrett would never forget that horrible day. He remembered that night lying in his bed hearing Mom crying. He thought that she would never stop crying. And he heard Dad blaming himself for Kathryn's death. Tears streamed down Garrett's face. He had been raised to have faith, raised with a solid Catholic upbringing, but he couldn't understand why God had allowed this to happen. And despite his own pain, the sensitive and determined little boy resolved to help his parents through the nightmare. But they wouldn't let him help them. Instead, they sent him away for a month to live with Grandmom Lois and Granddad Bernie. None of them had ever really gotten over Kathryn's death, but time helped to lessen the pain.  
  
The sensitive little boy grew up to be a sensitive and extremely bright and athletic teenager. And despite his shyness, Garrett had a pleasant and engaging disposition that helped him make friends very easily. Yet, his Achilles heel remained his parents and whenever anyone attacked Mom and Dad, they faced Garrett's wrath. One day, when he was seventeen years old, he was in the locker room changing when some of the guys were looking at an old magazine with pictures of Mom. Mom's television show was just taking off then and the pictures were of her and her co-star. Mom was wearing a red negligee. In that outfit and with her makeup and hair teased, she looked sexy and seductive. She didn't look like the mother who had come down to the train station before his first weekend trip to Buffalo for a debating competition when he was fourteen years old bringing his long underwear because she insisted that the temperatures in New York were cold at night. Then he cringed at her overprotectiveness but said a silent prayer of thanks that she had packed the undergarments in a small bag before handing them to him. He would have died right there from embarrassment if she had pulled the item out in front of everyone. It was bad enough that she had gotten all misty-eyed about her "baby" going away from home. It was just for the weekend; he wasn't going to boot camp. And he endured her very public kiss on the cheek right there in the train station.  
  
But in that magazine, she looked so different. It wasn't just the fact that the pictures were nearly nineteen years old. Mom was still a very beautiful woman at fifty. It was just seeing Mom looking like that and wearing a negligee. And the guys were salivating over the pictures, calling Mom "hot" and a "babe." One guy even said that he wanted to spend some "quality" time with Mom. Garrett approached the teenage perverts menacingly demanding an apology for the lewd remarks about his mother. Most of the guys did apologize and seemed remorseful about going too far in their behavior. Of course, there was one guy who continued with the degrading remarks suggesting that Mom's co-star had to be a "lucky" man and implying that Mom and the guy had more than a working relationship because the guy wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of Mom. Then the kid got what was coming to him when he said that Mom had probably obliged because actresses didn't have any sexual restraint when it came to their co-stars. Garrett punched the guy and a fight ensued in the locker room. Once again, his temper had been his undoing. He was called into the principal's office, sternly lectured about his sin in fighting, told that he would be suspended for three days, and informed that his grandfather had been called (the principal couldn't reach his parents). Garrett said a prayer that it was his Granddad Bernie instead of Grandfather Jeffrey. Jeffrey, Jr. (who insisted on being called "Grandfather" not "Granddad") was still a formidable presence even though he was now in his seventies. Jeffrey, Jr. still possessed the same commanding presence that had mesmerized juries and had caused witnesses to cower under his cross-examination. The thought of facing one of his Grandfather Jeffrey's lectures about controlling his temper sent shivers down his spine.  
  
"Garrett." He heard the familiar voice at the door call his name. He turned around and glanced at the door meeting the eyes of Grandfather Jeffrey. Hope had evaporated. Garrett cringed.  
  
The principal loaned grandfather and grandson his office then left the room so that they could talk privately. Garrett shifted uncomfortably in his chair. As expected, the lecture was long, merciless, and unpleasant. Grandfather Jeffrey reminded him that he wasn't a child anymore, but a young man and as such he couldn't just strike out whenever someone said something that made him angry. Grandfather Jeffrey conceded that he had been cursed with the Metcalf temper, but added that he needed to channel that passionate temperament into more worthwhile pursuits. Then Grandfather Jeffrey offered him the opportunity to defend himself. Garrett swallowed hard. He apologized for fighting only because he had been raised to believe that it was a sin but not for wanting to defend his mother's honor. He wasn't sorry about that. The guy had insulted his mother and he wouldn't allow anyone to do that. He was prepared to take what was coming to him. Grandfather Jeffrey studied him intently. There was a long silence before Grandfather Jeffrey told him that it was time to go home.  
  
Garrett spent his three-day suspension alternating between working at McGinty's and at Grandfather Jeffrey's law firm. Grandfather Jeffrey was semi-retired, but that didn't mean that he didn't visit his firm often to check on the associates. Garrett had worked at the firm last summer and discovered that he really enjoyed the law. One morning he was straightening out some files in the office at McGinty's when he noticed Dad's paper on the desk. He picked up the paper and was surprised to see that it had tomorrow's date on it. Probably a typo. Garrett flipped through the pages and saw a headline on page five about an elderly woman slipping and falling on a sticky substance as she was about to cross the street on Wacker. Later, Garrett was stocking glasses behind the bar when he saw Dad rush pass him and hurry out of the door. For years, Garrett wondered where Dad went during the day. Impulsively, he decided to follow his father. He followed Dad to Wacker. Dad pulled out his paper. Dad looked at the corner. Suddenly, an elderly woman approached. Before she had a chance to slip and fall on the sticky substance, Dad prevented her injury.  
  
Garrett was across the street, his mud green eyes shocked staring at the event unfolding before him. It was just like the paper had said. How could that be? Finally, Dad saw him. Dad crossed the street. They didn't say anything to each other at first. Then Dad placed his hand on his shoulder and said that they should go home because they needed to talk. When they arrived at the house, Garrett could see that Dad was struggling about what he wanted to say. Dad rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Finally, Dad revealed his secret. He got tomorrow's newspaper today and for over twenty years he had run around the city preventing the disasters predicted in his early edition.  
  
A long silence.  
  
It all began to make sense, why Dad was always in a hurry, why he always appeared on the scene of whatever calamity happened in Chicago, everything. But something else made even more sense. Garrett realized why Dad blamed himself for Kathryn's death. It was because Dad knew that it was going to happen and somehow he couldn't stop it. With heavy emotion, Dad relived that painful day. There was a story in the paper about a drunken man killed in a bar during a brawl. Dad had reached the bar, prevented the fight, and told the bartender to make sure that the man went home in a cab. Instead, the guy ended up in a car. It was that car, driven by the man Dad had saved earlier, that had struck and killed Kathryn. Dad had saved a life and that life had killed his daughter. Dad saw the story in the paper about Kathryn's death, he rushed to the scene to save her, but he was too late. He had saved many people over the years, but he couldn't save his own daughter. The floodgates to Gary's pain and guilt opened and he cried. Garrett had never seen his Dad cry like that before. He walked towards Dad and hugged him tightly, comforting his father with his touch and his words. Dad's body was shaking. He told Dad not to blame himself. He had saved a life. Kathryn would have been very proud of him. And he was very proud to be his son.  
  
Garrett was jolted from his memories as he arrived at Lake Shore Drive. He saw the little girl about to be hit by the car, ran towards her, and pulled her to safety. Life had come full circle.  
  
Garrett barely made it home in time to change into his cap and gown. He hurried to the college just as "Pomp and Circumstance" was playing. He saw Mom and Dad in the audience. They had tears in their eyes. Mom had the camera. She was beaming. Garrett would tell his parents after graduation the decision that he had made. He had turned down his acceptance to Harvard Law School to attend law school in Chicago. He would somehow find a way to balance his legal studies with handling The Paper. Dad had this burden for over twenty years. It was time to pass the torch. And Garrett was ready.  
  
The heir apparent walked on the stage to receive his degree. He looked at his parents. He didn't know all the answers about what the future held for him, but what he did know, what disasters he could prevent that were in The Paper, he would do so. He would just take it one disaster at a time.  
  
Chapter 2- Torts and Turmoil  
  
The first year of law school can be summed up in one word: Pure hell. Okay, so that's two words, but you get the meaning. It's a maddening experience that makes a ride on a roller coaster seem like a quiet place for reflection. Civil Procedure, Contracts, Torts, Criminal Law, and Property Law...they become the jealous and possessive friends that constantly run your life and intrude upon your sleep. They whisper their intentions into your subconscious; Latin words mostly. Mens rea. Res judicata. When did you forget how to speak English anyway? You are told from day one that in order to survive in law school you have to learn how to "think" like a lawyer. You read very long cases, (also called opinions, decisions, and precedents), your eyes and brain honed to sift through the pages of dicta (i.e. extraneous information) for that all important holding, the rule of law that is the foundation of the decision. But the rule of law is a sneaky little fellow. It likes to hide in the pages and pages and pages of opinion. If brevity is considered the soul of wit, then one could argue that Justices Frankfurther or Cardozo were on occasion, witless (is that even a word?) Your mind becomes like that little boat set adrift in the sea of confusion. Pumping coffee into your body like a narcotic, existing on that quick and cold hot dog (when you have time to eat at all) and with heavy eyelids and fear induced insomnia (You don't want to be called upon and be embarrassed by your professor for not having done the reading), you pour through your casebooks hunting down the holding. It's in there, somewhere. It has to be. Did the Justices really need to bury it amongst all those obscure references to Shakespeare? Pretty sadistic. Ah...there's the rub. It is meant to be torture, you surmise.  
  
And Property Law, or as you like to call it, much ado about nothing (Okay, so you like Shakespeare, you admit that) is one of the biggest nightmares. Easements. Covenants running with the land. And the absolute worst: The Rule Against Perpetuities which requires that all interests must vest no later than 21 years after the end of a life (or lives) in being at the creation of the trust. The Unborn Widow. Huh? Or, how about the Fertile Octogenarian? You can't help but laugh at that image, but it is no joke. This is first year Property Law at its idiotic finest. If you think that makes little sense then you are in the company of generations of law school students forced to sweat over the meaning and application of these insane rules.  
  
First year law school is definitely no picnic. And when you have to balance the first year of law school with handling tomorrow's newspaper today; well, let's just say it can be murder!  
  
Garrett Jeffrey Hobson learned that lesson the hard way. Sitting in the back row of the very large lecture hall with a seat capacity of 200 people and using his Torts book as a pillow, Garrett had fallen asleep while his book remained opened. He was snoring. His classmates stared at him, their expressions a palpable mixture of shock, annoyance, and disgust. Torts class- 8:30 a.m. Professor Bluntman was busy jotting down something on the blackboard so he didn't see the law student who was sleeping soundly in the back of the room. Yet.  
  
Yesterday had been a long day for the novice hero. At dawn's first light, Garrett awoke to the chorus of the meow and a thump. Ever since he was a little boy, Garrett had always loved Cat. Cat was his buddy. He remembered how he would play with Cat and allow Cat to jump on the furniture even when Dad said that Cat had to stay off the floor. Garrett would look at Dad, his mud green eyes pleading, and sometimes Dad would allow Cat to stay on the furniture. Sometimes Dad would grumble that he was outnumbered. Mom would also let Cat jump on the furniture. Cat was part of the family, Mom insisted. Cat would then purr and rub his fur gratefully against Mom's leg. Despite Dad's grumbling, Garrett knew that Dad also loved Cat (Dad would never admit that, though). When he was eleven years old, Garrett learned from Grandmom Lois that Mom had fallen down the stairs the day he was born. Grandmom Lois said that it was Cat who had alerted her and Uncle Chuck that Mom was lying at the bottom of the stairs and needed help. Cat was watching over Mom and Cat must have been watching over him, too. Garrett felt as if he owed Cat his life.  
  
Now there was a new dynamic to his life-long relationship with his friend. Cat was the emissary of The Paper. There were so many disasters that he had to handle in The Paper yesterday that Garrett could barely breathe. He was constantly running around the city. And the ingratitude of the people he helped was the worst. One lady even hit him with her cane because she thought that he was trying to rob her. That really hurt. He wouldn't tell Mom about that, though. Mom would be very upset. She'd probably want to hunt that lady down. He could just hear Mom now saying that "no one was going to hit her baby." Mom could be so embarrassing sometimes.  
  
Last night, Mom, Dad, Grandmom Lois and Granddad Bernie, Grandmom Jessica and Grandfather Jeffrey insisted that he have dinner with them to celebrate surviving his first week of law school. He really didn't want to. He wanted to go out with his friends, have a beer, and shoot some pool, but he couldn't disappoint his family. He still had yet to tell them that he wanted to use the money he had saved from working at Grandfather Jeffrey's law firm to get his own apartment. He was twenty-one years old, a grown man. It was embarrassing still living at home with his parents. Dad would understand, but he wasn't so sure about Mom. She didn't want to let go. During dinner, his family asked him all about law school. He said that it was very hard, harder than he thought that it would be, but that he loved learning about the law. Grandfather Jeffrey told him that he had to do very well in his first year, make Law Review if he wanted to be hired by the top law firms once he graduated. Garrett knew that Grandfather Jeffrey expected him to make it on his own. There would be no cushy job waiting for him at Grandfather Jeffrey's law firm after graduation.  
  
But what his family didn't know was that Garrett didn't want to work for a big law firm. He didn't want to represent corporate clients and spend 80 hour work weeks trying to make those billable hour requirements. Not that The Paper would accommodate that kind of lifestyle anyway. What he wanted was to work as a lawyer at a small public interest law firm that advocated for children's rights. He wanted to do that in memory of Kathryn.  
  
Garrett was happy to hear that Mom and Dad were going on a second honeymoon next week. They were going to Ireland and then Paris. Jennifer and Gary would be staying at the same places that they had spent their honeymoon over twenty years ago. He was so happy for his parents. With Mom's acting career and Dad's responsibilities with The Paper and raising him, they never had time for this trip before. Mom had stopped acting a few years ago. Her television show ended a long time ago and except for an occasional guest appearance, she had retired from show business. And Dad was now free of The Paper. Grandmom Lois asked about their trip and he could just hear the joy in Mom's voice as she gushed about it. She and Dad exchanged looks, Dad reached for Mom's hand, and then kissed it. Mom stared into Dad's eyes, their love clearly captured in that gaze. It took Granddad Bernie's polite cough for Mom to realize that Grandmom Lois had asked her a question that she hadn't answered. When Mom and Dad looked at each other they always acted like no one else was in the room.  
  
A meow emanated from the floor. Garrett looked down at the floor. Cat was sitting on The Paper near Garrett's chair. Garrett reached over, picked up The Paper, and flipped through the pages. Some more disasters that required his attention. It was 7:30 p.m., but heroics wasn't a nine to five job. Dinner quickly ended as Garrett said his apologies and hurried to the door. Garrett put on his coat. He was about to leave when Mom called him. She arose from her chair, proceeded to where he was standing, and removed his hat and scarf from the coat rack. She demanded that he put on the items. It was chilly out tonight. Garrett glanced at Dad who was trying to suppress a laugh. Dad winked at him. Perhaps Dad was feeling a bit of deja-vu.  
  
Garrett didn't get back home until 10:00 p.m. He still had fifty pages of his Torts assignment to read and thirty pages of Property Law. At 4:00 a.m., he had finally fallen asleep. Two and a half hours later, he was awakened by the familiar meow and thump. Fortunately, his first save wasn't until 11:00 a.m. He could go to his Torts class and make his save before he had to go to his Property Law class at noon.  
  
Professor Bluntman turned around. Like a hungry predator, his eyes surveyed the room for the perfect prey to devour. Those eyes focused on the back of the room settling on the young man who dared to sleep in his class. Professor Bluntman walked over to his desk and looked at his seating chart. The seating charts had pictures of the law students taped to the paper. Law students hated that. Very hard to hide in a class where the professor assigned seats and could pick your face out in the crowd.  
  
"Mr. Hobson!" Professor Bluntman bellowed.  
  
Garrett was jolted from his slumber by the sound of the professor calling his name. "Ye-Yes, sir." He stammered nervously.  
  
"So sorry that we are disturbing you, Mr. Hobson." Professor Bluntman said sarcastically. The class erupted in laughter. Garrett blushed slightly. He hated being the center of attention.  
  
"Mr. Hobson, could you please tell the class the elements of a tort?"  
  
Garrett stood up. Law students were expected to stand up to make their recitations.  
  
"Yes, sir." Elements of a tort, that was easy. Garrett cleared his throat. "The elements of a tort are duty, causation, breach, and damages." Garrett answered. He sat back down. Professor Bluntman raised his eyebrow. Garrett could tell that the professor wasn't very pleased with his answer. Garrett jumped back up so quickly it looked like a firecracker had been placed in his chair.  
  
"Have you done the reading, Mr. Hobson?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"And is that your final answer, Mr. Hobson?"  
  
"Yes, sir. I mean, no sir." Garrett rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. There had to be more, the professor was looking for more to his answer. "Ah... there is a duty...a duty that is...that is imposed by statute and...and by a relationship between the parties in which the law imposes liability for a breach of that duty." Garrett continued. "And the defendant has to do some active conduct to breach the duty or he has to...he has to omit some obligation that he is expected to perform in relation to the plaintiff for there to be a breach. And there is factual or 'but for" causation and legal or proximate causation. In addition, the plaintiff has to have suffered damages, some kind of injury for which the law provides compensation to make the plaintiff whole again."  
  
"So a relationship is required between the parties?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"What about a Good Samaritan, Mr. Hobson? Does a Good Samaritan have a duty of care to the party that he or she might rescue where there is no prior relationship?" Professor Bluntman probed.  
  
Garrett felt a chill at the eerie relevance that question had to his own circumstances.  
  
"Well...ah...a Good Samaritan...a Good Samaritan...he...ah..."  
  
"Meow."  
  
Garrett stared down at his chair where Cat had suddenly appeared. Cat was sitting on top of The Paper.  
  
"A Good Samaritan...he...ah...he has to..." Garrett continued stammering as he glanced in the direction of The Paper. A front page headline that wasn't there before, screamed, "Gun-toting Man Causes Mayhem On Orange Line."  
  
"A Good Samaritan...he...has...to..I have to go. Sorry." Garrett announced abruptly as he hurried to the door. All the other law students stared at Garrett, shocked that he dared to leave the class without permission.  
  
Professor Bluntman's features contorted with anger. "Mr. Hobson! I expect to see you in my office today."  
  
Garrett turned back around, his mud green eyes meeting the icy gaze of his professor. He swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." He said meekly before leaving the room. He knew that he was in trouble, but he couldn't worry about that now.  
  
The security guards at the train station didn't believe him when he warned them about the gun-toting man. Garrett's eyes darted around the area. He opened The Paper and read the description of the man and what the guy was wearing. He saw the man get on the train. Garrett quickly sprung into action. The man pulled out his gun. But before the man had the chance to cause any damage, Garrett jumped out from the back and tackled the man to the ground. It was a stupid move (Mom would freak if she had known what he had done), but Garrett succeeded in wrestling the gun away from the man. The terrified passengers applauded the young hero.  
  
A half hour later, the police appeared on the scene and took Garrett's statement as well as the statements of the other witnesses. Garrett looked at his watch. He asked the police whether he could leave. Twenty minutes later, he was permitted to leave. He scurried back to the law school. His heart was pounding rapidly as he walked the hallway towards Professor Bluntman's office. He knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in." Professor Bluntman said.  
  
Garrett apologized for his behavior. But Professor Bluntman wasn't letting him off the hook so easily. A long lecture followed. Professor Bluntman told Garrett that he had the potential to make a great lawyer, but that he needed to take his studies seriously. Falling asleep and leaving class without permission was unacceptable. In addition, Professor Bluntman informed that if it happened again, he would personally see to it that Garrett was expelled.  
  
Garrett swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." He said, contritely. He was permitted to leave. The next several weeks proceeded at a frenzied pace. Between classes, studying, and The Paper, Garrett was physically and emotionally spent.  
  
One day, Garrett was sitting in his Criminal Law class when his professor announced that the class was privileged to have a guest speaker, a nationally recognized criminal lawyer.  
  
Guest speaker, great. Garrett thought to himself. He really didn't have to pay too much attention to a guest speaker.  
  
"Class, please welcome prominent Chicago attorney, Jeffrey Metcalf, Jr." Professor Dell said. Jeffrey, Jr. entered the room.  
  
Garrett sank down in his seat at the mention of his Grandfather Jeffrey's name. Grandfather Jeffrey always said that if he ever was in a position to teach one of Garrett's classes, he wouldn't go easy on him just because he was his grandson.  
  
Jeffrey, Jr. approached the podium. "Good afternoon, class. I would like to talk to you today about the Exclusionary Rule. Who can tell me about the seminal case that discussed the Fourth Amendment's right against unreasonable search and seizure by finding that the conduct of the police 'shocked the conscience'?"  
  
A long silence.  
  
Jeffrey, Jr. looked at the seating chart for a student to call on. He needed a victim, someone to make an example out of. A rare smile crossed Jeffrey, Jr.'s face as he found the perfect victim.  
  
"Mr. Hobson."  
  
Chapter 3- Unhealthy Liaisons  
  
A hush fell over the classroom. Most students said a silent prayer of thanks that they hadn't been chosen by the guest speaker. No one moved.  
  
"Garrett Hobson. Mr. Hobson, we're waiting." Jeffrey, Jr.'s still powerful voice resonated in the room.  
  
Garrett stood up. All eyes were focused on him. Perhaps if his classmates knew that the terror in the front of the room was his grandfather they would assume that he would have an easier time with his recitation. Their assumptions would be incorrect. Facing Grandfather Jeffrey's scrutiny for Garrett was far worse than dealing with any of his other professors.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hobson."  
  
"Good afternoon, sir."  
  
"Mr. Hobson, can you tell the class about the seminal case that discussed the Fourth Amendment's right against unreasonable search and seizure by finding that the conduct of the police 'shocked the conscience'?"  
  
Garrett swallowed hard. This should be easy. Like his mother who possessed a photographic memory that had helped her in memorizing pages of dialogue, Garrett's memory for recalling details was frighteningly astute.  
  
"Yes, sir. The case was Rochin versus California decided by the United States Supreme Court in 1952. In that case police officers were acting on information that the defendant, Mr. Rochin, was selling drugs. They...ah...they found the outside door of Rochin's house open, went upstairs, and forced their way into Rochin's bedroom. The police saw two capsules on the night stand. Rochin put the capsules into his mouth. The police jumped on him trying to force the pills from his mouth before he swallowed them, but they couldn't. So they handcuffed Rochin and took him to the hospital where they ordered doctors to pump Rochin's stomach. From the stomach pumping the two pills were retrieved, tested, and found to contain morphine. Rochin was later tried for possession of morphine in violation of a California statute. The pills were put into evidence and he was convicted. The appeals court affirmed the conviction, but the U.S. Supreme Court reversed finding that the officers' conduct shocked the conscience and violated Mr. Rochin's constitutional rights."  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"Do you think that the Supreme Court's decision was the correct one, Mr. Hobson?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Very well. Let me give you another scenario. Let's pretend for a moment that you aren't a student, but a defense attorney. Your client has been arrested for selling drugs to teenagers in a school yard. The prosecution's case is weak despite having the testimony of the teenagers who the prosecution has offered immunity in exchange for their testimony. The teenagers are, let's say for the sake of argument, fourteen years old and aren't expected to be credible witnesses. Your client has no prior criminal record and except for the teenagers, there are no other witnesses to the alleged transaction. During one of your consultations with your client, he admits to you that he sold the drugs and that he plans to do so again because he's making big money in the drug trade, but that he expects you to get him off. What do you do?"  
  
Garrett hesitated briefly before answering. "I report what he said to authorities. He just admitted to a crime and said that he plans on committing a future crime."  
  
"So, you violate the ethic standards as an attorney, attorney-client privilege, because of some bleeding heart notion of right and wrong?"  
  
"Well...I...ah..."  
  
"You forget your professional responsibilities to your client and let your personal beliefs interfere, correct?"  
  
"Well...I...would...ah...I...would...that is...I...would."  
  
"Stop stuttering, Mr. Hobson. Stuttering is for little children. Your client is paying you $140 per hour for your legal expertise not to hear you stutter. It doesn't matter that your client is the scum of the earth. The Sixth Amendment provides for the right to counsel and as counsel, you would be expected to advocate zealously on behalf of Mr. Scumball."  
  
The class laughed.  
  
"Well, Mr. Hobson? I asked you a question, would you violate professional ethics for your personal feelings?"  
  
"I would...ah...I would..."  
  
"We're back to stuttering. You're a disgrace to the profession, Mr. Hobson. Sit down."  
  
Garrett sat back down in his seat. A few students flashed him sympathetic looks. At this moment, he wished that he could crawl into a hole. There were no words to describe how he felt at being humiliated by his grandfather. But humiliation wasn't the only thing that he was feeling. Garrett felt like a failure in the eyes of the one person that he had always sought approval and wanted to be proud of him.  
  
The memories slapped his face with a cold hand. Garrett remembered when he was a freshman in high school. He had received "A's" in all of his subjects except for Algebra in which he had received a "C". The solitary "C" in Algebra that appeared on his first quarter report card was an unwelcome misfit, like a soldier facing court-martial, a miscreant among the valiant. God, he hated math! And Algebra might as well have been Greek as far as he was concerned. It made absolutely no sense to him. Letters and numbers in an equation? What relevance would that ever have to his life? Garrett had inherited his aversion to math from both of his parents. Mom and Dad were supportive telling him that he had nothing to be ashamed of because he had tried his best. But when Grandfather Jeffrey had asked to see his report card and saw the less than stellar grade, the expression on his grandfather's face spoke volumes. Grandfather Jeffrey said that he was very disappointed in him. Grandfather Jeffrey added that he was a very smart boy, that he was being lazy, and that a "C" wasn't the best that he could do. Those words cut at Garrett's chest like a knife. Garrett remembered getting a tutor and studying so hard that he got migraines. The next quarter he received a "B" in Algebra. He eagerly showed Grandfather Jeffrey his report card. It was then that his grandfather said that he was proud of him.  
  
The sound of his grandfather's voice jolted Garrett from his memories. "Some of you probably have no idea why you are in law school. Actually, let me rephrase that, you probably do have an idea. It's because you want to delay your entry into the real world of working. You're not ready to be adults and since Mommy and Daddy are paying for your legal education, you figure why not? Or, maybe some of you are here because you want to save the world and you think that being a lawyer is your way of doing that. You're young and idealistic. I know because I've been there. I was young once and I was idealistic. But idealism exists in fairy tales. The law is about realism and sometimes the last place that you'll find justice is in a court of law. You want to know what being a lawyer is like? It's about clients who won't listen to your advice. It's about settling a case at the eleventh hour after you have spent months preparing for trial and have billed thousands of dollars. It's about dealing with difficult opposing counsel and obnoxious judges. This profession is not for the faint at heart. You'll face judges whose main purpose in life will seem to make your life miserable. When these judges get finished berating you, you'll feel like you're worth about two cents. But as a lawyer, you can never let anyone see your weaknesses nor allow you to underestimate your abilities. If you truly want this, then the law has to be your passion. You have to want it for yourself and not because you want to hide out from the real world for three years or because you'll give your parents something to brag about to their friends. And believe it or not, sometimes idealism will win out. You will be able to save the world despite all the bruises that you'll get in trying."  
  
Mud green eyes locked with the eyes of his grandfather. Somehow the class had disappeared and Garrett felt as if Grandfather Jeffrey was speaking only to him. And he understood.  
  
The first year of law school passed by as quickly as the arrows of a clock with impatient hands marking the final seconds to a very intense academic year. Garrett felt as if he had aged ten years in this year of balancing life as a full time student and a hero. Fortunately, there were no repeat performances of falling asleep in class or having to rush out of class to answer The Paper's call. However, The Paper did interfere with his final exam in Criminal Law. Garrett had arrived nearly an hour late for the three hour exam. After some pleading, he convinced Professor Dell to permit him to take the exam. But the professor informed him that he would not be allowed the extra hour. He was expected to complete the three hour exam in the two hours that remained. Garrett nodded as he took the exam (four essay questions) and his blue book and proceeded to his seat. He sat down, quickly read the questions, opened his blue book, and began writing furiously. He wrote so fast that his hand ached. His brain did, too, as he silently chanted IRAC (Issue, Rule, Analysis, and Conclusion). IRAC was the acronym drilled into every law student's head and the foundation for the well prepared law school exam. Garrett could barely remember thinking. There was no time to think. He just needed to write and to keep writing. Garrett finished the last sentence of his conclusion just as Professor Dell told the students to put down their pens. Garrett let out a deep breath. Whatever happened now was out of his control. But he prayed that he hadn't failed out of law school.  
  
He didn't. The young hero earned "A's" in all of his classes except for Property Law where he had received a "B." The Rule Against Perpetuities had been surprisingly merciful. Garrett's grades placed him in the top 1% of his class.  
  
Chicago's top law firms came courting the handsome law student/hero. Hungry recruiters wined and dined him hoping to convince him to accept their offers as a summer associate. But these recruiters were shocked when Garrett refused their offers of summer employment. He knew exactly where he wanted to work. He wanted to work for a small public interest law firm and he had a place in mind. Smartly dressed in a charcoal suit with a matching silk tie and armed with his monogrammed, black leather briefcase, the initials GJH sparkling proudly in the afternoon sun (the briefcase had been a gift from Grandfather Jeffrey), Garrett walked down the street towards the office complex holding his dream job. As he walked, his mind reflected on all of the changes in his life during the past year. He had been handling The Paper full time for a year. He had just completed his first year of law school. And he had moved into his own apartment. Now that was a story.  
  
It had taken him a while to break the news about the apartment to his parents. Dad was supportive of his decision. But as he had expected, Mom was not very happy. She didn't want him to move out of the house. She tried convincing him that staying home while he was in school was the smartest thing to do. He could save money. He would have a built in support system as he toiled with his studies and handling The Paper. Please don't go, Mom's eyes pleaded desperately. Garrett hugged his mother tightly. He didn't want to hurt her; he loved her so much. But he couldn't remain that baby she had cradled in her arms even as much as he loved her. Time wouldn't let him. And even if he could, he wouldn't want to. He was ready to spread his wings, to feel the cool rush of air bathe his body as he inhaled independence like a much desired aphrodisiac. It was time.  
  
Garrett had wanted to move into an apartment on Lake Shore Drive, but found that even with his savings, he couldn't afford the rent. However, an unexpected savior gave him the money. It was a gift, not a loan the savior informed him despite his insistence that he'd pay back the money to his benefactor. But Uncle Chuck was adamant; the money was a gift. People always said that Uncle Chuck wasn't very generous when it came to sharing his money, but Garrett never saw that side of his godfather. Ever since he was a little boy, Uncle Chuck had freely given him money, time, and love. And the stories that Uncle Chuck shared about Dad were the best. When he was sixteen years old, Garrett confided in Uncle Chuck that he wanted to get a tattoo. He knew that his parents would freak about him "scarring" his body like that. Uncle Chuck smiled and then told him that Dad had a tattoo. No way! Not Dad! Uncle Chuck told him to ask Dad about the tattoo. Uncle Chuck said that he wanted to be there when Garrett asked his dad this question.  
  
Garrett asked Dad about his tattoo. Garrett told Dad that he wanted to see the tattoo. Mom laughed and Dad flashed Uncle Chuck a dirty look. Dad blushed before telling him that he didn't have a tattoo and that Uncle Chuck liked weaving tall tales.  
  
Garrett stopped walking. He looked up at the mammoth office building that looked as omnipotent as a Sphinx seated along the sands of a bygone era paying homage to a fallen pharaoh. Garrett took a deep breath as he went through the revolving doors.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Life was one large quilt with panels embroidered with the threads of irony.  
  
Marcia opened the folder and pulled out the crisp resume with the familiar name: Garrett Jeffrey Hobson. Gary's son. Gary's son would be arriving at any moment for the interview. The young man's credentials were impressive. Top 1% of his class. Law Review. And his cover letter explaining why he wanted the job exuded passion and sincerity. She knew why this job was so important to him. She remembered. The memory was burned into her brain. It was 11 years ago. She would never forget it.  
  
Marcia had opened the Sun-Times one day and was shocked to read about the death of six-year-old Kathryn Lois Hobson at the hands of a drunken driver. Gary's daughter had been killed. Marcia had spent many years feeling angry with Gary for refusing to rekindle their love and for marrying that tramp. She had represented Rosengardo with the express purpose of seeing Gary in prison. She fed on her revenge and her overwhelming desire to see him punished. But when Gary saved her from a rapist, she no longer wanted revenge. She hoped that they could bury the anger and the pain and become friends, but that tramp wouldn't allow that to happen. Marcia remembered walking past the hospital room where the Hobsons gazed at their newborn son. Regret (and envy) swelled inside of her as she watched the touching scene unfolding. Over the years she often thought about Gary and fantasized about what might have been if she hadn't been so obsessed with her career. Her intense hatred for Jennifer grew even stronger with each passing year. Marcia saw Jennifer as the vixen who had doused the flame of Marcia's lost desire. However, seeing the article about Kathryn's death, Marcia felt a wave of sympathy for her nemesis. But Marcia's heart especially went out to Gary.  
  
Marcia had shown up at the cemetery for Kathryn's burial. But Marcia remained carefully hidden in the shadows. She saw the immeasurable grief that blanketed Jennifer and Gary's faces. As the mourners departed, Jennifer and Gary remained behind. Marcia saw Jennifer's parents convince her that it was time to leave. The usually glamorous actress looked like a lifeless zombie as she was led away from the cemetery flanked by her parents. Gary stared at the tiny white casket. Lois tried to convince him to leave, but he wouldn't. Marcia heard Gary tell his mother that he couldn't leave his daughter, he couldn't let them put her into the ground because Kathryn was afraid of the dark. She would be so scared. Gary kept saying that it was his fault that Kathryn was dead. It took a long time for Lois to reach him but she was finally able to get him to leave. Marcia had never forgotten the look in Gary's eyes as he gazed one last time at his daughter's coffin.  
  
Marcia had wanted to reveal herself, do something, anything, to comfort Gary, but she realized that if Gary knew that she was there, it would probably upset him even more. She didn't belong there. Instead, Marcia went back to her life, devoting her practice almost exclusively to children's rights issues and in enacting legislation that would protect children and parents against the perils of drunk drivers. It was a small thing but something that she wanted to do for Gary.  
  
There was a knock at the door. "Ms. Roberts?" A familiar voice whispered. Marcia looked up from the folder and was rendered speechless by the handsome young man standing at her door. The mud green eyes, dark hair, and thick eyebrows were chillingly familiar just as the voice had been. She felt that she was staring into the face of a much younger version of her ex- husband.  
  
She stood up. Garrett entered the room. "Garrett Hobson." He said, introducing himself as he extended his hand. She accepted the handshake, his touch sending shivers right through to her spine.  
  
She quickly composed herself. "Have a seat, Garrett."  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"Your credentials are quite impressive." She said.  
  
"Thank you, Ms. Roberts."  
  
"Please, call me Marcia."  
  
"Marcia."  
  
She could feel the goose bumps raising on her skin as he said her name. Did he even know that she was his father's ex-wife? She sensed that he didn't.  
  
"With your credentials, you can work for any of the top firms of your choosing. Why do you want to work here?"  
  
Garrett took a deep breath before telling Marcia about his desire to work on cases that embraced children's rights. His voice was choked with emotion as he revealed to her that his sister had been killed by a drunk driver and that he was impressed by the legislation that the firm had been working on to protect children and parents against drunk drivers. Marcia stared at him. The handsome young man was confident, passionate, and well spoken.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Marcia offered Garrett the job. She told him that she was looking forward to working very closely with him. He smiled, the disarming Gary Hobson smile that could melt glaciers, said thank you and told her that he was looking forward to working with her, too.  
  
As Garrett left the office, he had no idea that he had just forged an unhealthy liaison that would have far-reaching consequences.  
  
Chapter 4- The Road Less Traveled  
  
The smoldering heat baked Chicago on an afternoon in late July. Even during the early morning hours, the sun had been unusually restless climbing to its zenith before most people had blinked open their eyes from a discontented sleep. It was hard sleeping when air conditioners seemed so helpless against avenging heat that was as omnipotent as a fire-breathing dragon. The heat continued to torment even after the sun had retired for the night.  
  
As he sat in the law library, Garrett felt eerily surrounded by the ghosts of learned jurists like Felix Frankfurther and Benjamin Cardozo. Their words poured, unfettered, from the volumes of legal reporters and treatises adorning the shelves. With the temperatures so hot and the air so humid and stifling that it induced sweat, Garrett watched her. So near yet so far.  
  
He wasn't salivating, but his mud green eyes were as smoldering as the heat.  
  
Marcia had removed her navy blue suit jacket. Her bare arms, neck, and hint of cleavage were left exposed by her camisole-styled blouse.  
  
Stop staring, Hobson! What are you, some sex-obsessed pervert? Garrett's inner voice forcefully scolded.  
  
At the very least Garrett knew that he would have to go to confession for the thoughts that he was having about his boss. He was twenty-one years old and she was more than thirty years his senior. But her body was age defying. People would easily mistake Marcia to be only in her early forties. If the body were a temple then Marcia had worshipped hers with all the devotion of a religious zealot. There were no flabby arms, sagging breasts, nor menacing cellulite claiming her thighs.  
  
You want to kiss her, you know you do. You're both consenting adults. And the way that she looks at you, she wants it, too. Do it! The devil on Garrett's shoulder demanded.  
  
She brushed a stray hair from her face as she continued focusing on the case book in front of her.  
  
He swallowed hard. It was now or never.  
  
"Marcia." He whispered.  
  
She looked up from her book. "Yes?" She answered her eyes looking deeply into his. Her eyes were like pools of light in which he felt himself drowning.  
  
The air was thick with sexual tension. Both of them knew it. He gently cupped her face.  
  
"What are you doing?" She asked even as she clearly knew his intentions.  
  
"This." Was his simple reply before he leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. But there was something more to that kiss. It was hungry; desperate, maybe, with an undercurrent of unleashed passion percolating to the surface.  
  
Finally, their lips parted. She seemed breathless as a new trail of sweat journeyed from her neck towards her breasts.  
  
"Garrett."  
  
Her voice tickled his insides.  
  
"Garrett!"  
  
The spell was broken. And so ended was a daydream of desire.  
  
Garrett was jolted back to reality. "Ye-yes Ma'am." He stammered nervously.  
  
She laughed. "Ma'am? Where were you? You seemed a million miles away and you had the strangest look on your face."  
  
"Well...I...ah...I was just....just thinking about you and how...how amazing it is that you took the Rodriguez case on such short notice." He lied. Yep, he needed to go to confession very soon.  
  
Maybe it wasn't a lie. Maybe it was just a mental reservation. After all, he had been thinking about her. Garrett remembered when he was seven and Great-granddad Jeff told him about mental reservations. Garrett even used a mental reservation once on Dad to get out of trouble, but it didn't work. When Dad found out, Dad was very angry. Dad lectured him, told him that what he had done was lying. Garrett remembered being more severely punished because of his initial offense of playing hooky from school and for lying about it. And Dad was very angry with Great-granddad Jeff for teaching him about mental reservations.  
  
But a mental reservation was needed in this instance.  
  
"Blanca Rodriguez doesn't deserve to be a punching bag for her husband. No woman deserves that. Marriage should be about love and commitment not violence. That's why we need to get this memorandum of law finished so that we can attach it to our emergency petition. What cases have you found?" Marcia asked him.  
  
"I found these. They talk about spousal abuse and marital rape." He responded indicating the books containing the cited cases. Marcia took the books from him and began to study the cases.  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"Marcia?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"How come you never got married?"  
  
Another brief silence.  
  
"I was married." She said softly, a trace of sadness in her voice.  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry. I was stupid. It's a personal question and I was stupid and I shouldn't have asked it. It's none of my business." Garrett apologized.  
  
"No. It's okay. My marriage ended a long time ago. I don't mind talking about it."  
  
"How did your husband die?" Garrett asked. His strict Catholic ideal had reared its head as he misinterpreted her statement.  
  
"My husband didn't die. I'm divorced."  
  
"Divorced? Wow. I mean, I just never thought...I mean, I can't imagine anyone divorcing you. You're a beautiful, intelligent, caring woman. Your ex-husband must have been a first-class jerk!"  
  
Marcia stared intently at Garrett. She had been right. Gary never told his son about his first marriage. She wanted to tell him the truth, but she hesitated. She was afraid. She had developed a nice working relationship with Garrett and she hoped a friendship as well. She didn't want to risk losing any of that. She didn't want to risk him hating her once he knew the truth about her identity.  
  
"No. He wasn't a jerk. He was a wonderful man. I was the one who was the jerk. I was obsessed with my career and I lost the most important thing in my life because of that. I used to work for a big law firm and all I wanted was the power and the perks. I wanted to be a partner. I took the road that most law students are expected to take. Who goes through three years of law school, puts themselves through that hell, if not to be a big professional success making tons of money? That's what my dad wanted for me. Dad wanted me to be a big success. But success, that kind of success, came at a terrible price. Maybe if I had taken the road less traveled, my life would have been different now." A brief silence. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,  
  
And sorry I could not travel both  
  
And be one traveler, long I stood  
  
And looked down one as far as I could  
  
To where it bent in the undergrowth;  
  
Then took the other, as just as fair,  
  
And having perhaps the better claim,  
  
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;  
  
Though as for that the passing there  
  
Had worn them really about the same,  
  
And both that morning equally lay  
  
In leaves no step had trodden black.  
  
Oh, I kept the first for another day!  
  
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,  
  
I doubted if I should ever come back.  
  
I shall be telling this with a sigh  
  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--  
  
I took the one less traveled by,  
  
And that has made all the difference." Marcia recited. "Robert Frost." Garrett said. "Look, Marcia. Sometimes...sometimes it just takes longer to find the right road, your dream, I guess. My Grandfather Jeffrey says that you have to want something very badly, that it has to be your passion and that you have to want it for yourself and no one else. And my Great-granddad Jeff used to say that you have to follow your dream no matter what screwy things life throws your way. He was so wise, my great-granddad. He taught me so much. He...he died when I was nine. I loved him very much and I still miss him."  
  
"He sounds like a wonderful man." Marcia said simply.  
  
Garrett smiled. "He was. He was the best. Jeff Metcalf. Did you know that my great-granddad was a famous right fielder with the Cleveland Indians? He really wanted to have a ball-player in the family. Instead, his son, my Grandfather Jeffrey, became a lawyer and my mom became an actress. My mom told me that when I was 2 months old my Great-Granddad Jeff bought me a baseball glove," Garrett said with small chuckle as he pictured the scene in his mind. "But now, I'm going to be a lawyer, too, just like my Grandfather Jeffrey. "  
  
"Tell me about your parents."  
  
"My parents? My parents...they're great. Mom is beautiful. And I don't just mean on the outside. She's beautiful inside. I remember that when I was little I used to think that she was an angel. And Dad...Dad is my hero. He's the most selfless person you'd ever hope to meet. He always puts other people' s needs before his own. He's special. And I'm not just saying that because I'm his son. Mom and Dad have one of those storybook marriages. They've been married for over twenty years and they still act like a couple of teenagers. That's the kind of marriage I want someday. They're so in love." Garrett hesitated briefly before continuing. "When...when Kathryn died, there was a part of all of us that died with her. I was only ten at the time, but I'll never forget what her death did to our family. It was a rough time. Something like that could have destroyed my parents' marriage, but instead it brought Mom and Dad even closer. But it's still hard especially at birthdays and other holidays. Kathryn's birthday was September 13th. Dad's is September 17th and Mom's is September 19th. Every year since Kathryn's death it's hard celebrating birthdays without thinking about her, without feeling the loss. It's been over ten years, but some days it feels like it just happened yesterday. Kathryn would have been eighteen this coming September, but all I can see when I think about her is that beautiful six year old with long blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. And she was such a daddy's girl. She had Dad wrapped around her little finger." Garrett recalled somberly.  
  
Instinctively, Marcia reached for his hand and gently squeezed it. He returned her comforting gesture with a smile.  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"You know, I was just thinking. I really want you to meet my parents. You would like them and I know that they would like you, too. I was planning on going over to their house tonight for dinner. I know that this is short notice, but how would you like to join me?"  
  
"Garrett, that's sweet of you to offer, but I really shouldn't."  
  
"Why? Are you worried about how it will look because you're my boss? You don't have to. I mean, everything will be fine. I promise."  
  
"It's not that. It's..."  
  
"It's what? I'm not going to take no for an answer. In fact, I'm going to call Mom right now and let her know that I'm bringing a friend over for dinner. Excuse me." Garrett said as he arose from his seat.  
  
Marcia sat there dumbfounded as she felt a pain in the pit of her stomach over the prospect of a long anticipated reunion that was very likely to bring trouble to all of them.  
  
Chapter 5- The Sins of the Father  
  
"No, Honey. Of course I don't mind. We can't wait to meet your friend. What? No, Chardonnay is fine. Right. Yes. Okay. I'll see you at 7. I love you. Bye." Jennifer hung up the phone.  
  
Gary sat on the couch. He had studied his wife the whole time that she spoke on the phone with their son. You couldn't be married to a person for over twenty years, share an emotional, physical, and spiritual intimacy, and have them as the nucleus of your existence without knowing the layers of their personality. He had become an expert in Jennifer Szabo Metcalf Hobson. That smile, the inflection in her voice, and the way that she forcefully waved her hands while she spoke like some temperamental maestro challenging an orchestra to reach deeply within their souls and feel every note. Yes, she possessed the panache of Indiana Jones exploring the Inca ruins of Machuu Picchu digging through the careworn earth for treasure.  
  
Or, for answers.  
  
"Garrett has a girlfriend." Jennifer surmised.  
  
"Really? And you figured that out from one phone call where he asked whether he could bring a friend over for dinner? For all we know this friend could be one of the guys that he shoots pool with." Gary said.  
  
"Yes, I figured that out from his phone call. You didn't speak with him, Gary. He started stuttering. He acted really nervous. Why would he act that way if it were just a guy that he shoots pool with? A mother knows these things." Jennifer proceeded to the couch and sat down next to her husband. "Besides, it's not what he said, but what he didn't say. He's being so secretive. It's not like him. I remember when we were dating and you didn't want me to tell my family your name or what you looked like. Still, Aunt Marissa figured out that I was in love before I told her. My God.... I hope that he's not planning on getting married. He's too young to get married. He still needs to finish school and with The Paper and.."  
  
"Whoa, wait a second. We're not even sure whether or not this friend is a girl and you're already worrying about whether Garrett's getting married? How about we meet this person first before we ask our son whether he signed up for pre-cana classes?"  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"Gary?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Did Garrett tell you whether he was seeing anyone?"  
  
Gary let out a sigh. "You're not going to let this go, are you? You're still the same tenacious woman that I married. Okay. No, Garrett didn't tell me whether he was seeing anyone. I know the same thing that you know, which is nothing."  
  
"I just figured that he would have told you. I mean, a boy will tell his father about the women that he's interested in before he'll tell his mother."  
  
Another brief silence.  
  
Gary rose from the couch. Jennifer watched him as he walked a short distance away from the couch, his back towards her. He hesitated briefly before he turned around to face her. He had a troubled look on his face. Gary took a deep breath. "You're right. I haven't been honest with you."  
  
"You haven't?"  
  
"No. Garrett did tell me about a woman that he's been seeing. He made me promise not to tell you because he's afraid about how you'd take the news. You see...Garrett...our son...he's...he's been seeing a woman named Aphrodite."  
  
"Aphrodite?"  
  
"Yes. Aphrodite L'Amour. She's a Playboy centerfold. Miss June or Miss July, I believe. Garrett says that she wants to be an actress. He's quite taken with her. He said something about going to confession because she's corrupting his morals." Gary explained. He saw the concerned look on Jennifer's face. A moment later, a smile crossed his face followed by a mischievous laugh.  
  
Jennifer proceeded to where Gary was standing. She playfully slapped him on the arm. "You think that you're pretty funny, don't you? Are you trying to tell me that I'm being ridiculous for worrying about Garrett so much?"  
  
"No. You're just being a mother and I guess, I know, that mothers can be a bit...ah...overly protective when it comes to their sons."  
  
Jennifer smiled. "And I guess that there are now two Mrs. Hobsons who smother their sons, huh?" Jennifer laughed. "You know, I just remembered something. I think that Garrett was about a month old. I was sitting on the couch talking to Lois while Garrett was sleeping. Lois was reminiscing about when you were a little boy. Garrett woke up and started crying. It didn't take long for me to realize that he was hungry. I brought him back over to the couch to nurse him. When I looked at Lois, she had tears in her eyes. I asked her what was wrong and she said that she could remember when you were a baby and when you needed her as much as Garrett needed me. And now you're a grown man with a son of your own. She told me to enjoy every moment with Garrett because time would fly by very quickly and one day he wouldn't need me. I guess that she was right." Jennifer realized a twinge of sadness peppering her words.  
  
Gary saw the sadness in Jennifer's eyes. Instinctively, he enveloped her in a hug. "Garrett will always need you and he will always love you. He just grew up. It had to happen. He needs his independence, to be able to make his own decisions. I know that it was hard for Mom to understand that, too. Moving away from her and Dad didn't mean that I didn't need them or that I loved them any less. It just meant that I was ready to use everything that they had taught me and to make my own place in the world. It's the same thing with Garrett wanting his own apartment. He was ready. But he knows that he can always come home."  
  
The hug ended. Jennifer looked at him, her eyes glazed with tears. "I know. But it's just that when I look at Garrett, I can still see that little baby that I held in my arms, that little baby that needed me for his survival, and that I could protect every minute of the day. It's hard for me to see that very tall, self-assured young man."  
  
"I know. It's hard for me, too. " Gary confessed. "I never wanted Garrett to know about The Paper. I never wanted to pass on that legacy to him. I wanted him to have a normal life. I asked him last week how things were going with The Paper and all he said was 'fine, Dad'. He wouldn't tell me about his saves or how he was dealing with the pressure of working and handling The Paper. I wanted to sit down with him, to try to prepare him for some of the very difficult saves that he might have to face. I worry so much about him having a run in with the police and being falsely accused of a crime and getting arrested. I worry about him making a choice and that choice costing a life. I know that the failure, the guilt, will eat away at him. If he had to face a situation like Jeremiah, or Earl, or Kathryn, he..." Gary stopped mid-sentence, his voice choked with emotion."  
  
Now it was Jennifer's turn to hug him. "Listen to me, Gary. Jeremiah and Earl and.." She paused briefly, her own words becoming strangled under weighty emotion, "...Kathryn's deaths weren't your fault. You didn't choose for them to die. You did everything that you could to save them. You're not a failure. It's time to let go of the guilt. Please let it go, Gary. Please." She pleaded.  
  
There was no answer, no sounds emanating from the room. There was only palpable silence as Jennifer and Gary stood there hugging each other, their hearts perfectly synchronized. And tears escaping from their eyes. * * * * * *  
  
The white lace tablecloth adorned the dining room table as it welcomed the fine china. Next to the place settings, four crystal glasses sparkled brilliantly. The inviting aroma of Chicken Marsala seeped out from the kitchen and conquered the dining room with its pleasantly tantalizing scent. French Bread, Lasagna, Green Beans Amandine, Asparagus Dijon, and Baked Parmesan Cottage Potatoes completed the wonderful symphony of smells that permeated the Hobson home.  
  
Gary was dressed in a charcoal suit with matching silk tie. Even though he was now in his late fifties, there was no question that he was still an extremely handsome man. Like a bottle of fine wine aged to perfection, the years had been very kind to him. His dark hair was sprinkled with traces of gray. Yet, the gray wasn't a death knell to his youth. Instead, it complemented his sexy allure.  
  
Jennifer wore a tasteful black evening dress with a V-neck. A pearl necklace and pearl drop earrings completed her attire. Her hair was elegantly upswept from the nape of her neck. She had recently darkened her strawberry mane to a rich and luscious brown. Gray hair was conspicuously absent.  
  
Gary sat on the bed putting on his shoes.  
  
"I told Garrett to use his key." Jennifer told Gary as she stood at their bedroom mirror applying her makeup. Fifteen minutes later, the Hobsons exited their bedroom and proceeded down the stairs. As they entered the living room, their son greeted them.  
  
Garrett handed Jennifer a bouquet of red roses. "These are beautiful. Thank you." She gushed as she hugged him.  
  
"Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman." Was Garrett's reply after the hug ended.  
  
She smiled at her son. "Looks like all the Hobson men know how to charm a woman." She observed.  
  
"Well, I had the best teacher." Garrett answered. He winked at his father.  
  
"Except I was a slow learner. It's good to see you, son."  
  
"Better late than never. It's good to see you, too, Dad." Father and son exchanged a warm hug.  
  
Jennifer looked around the room. "Where's your friend?"  
  
"She had to use the bathroom."  
  
"Oh. 'She' had to use the bathroom." Jennifer repeated. Jennifer emphasized the word 'she' as she flashed Gary a victorious grin. Gary shrugged his shoulders.  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"So, where did you meet her?" Jennifer probed.  
  
"We work together."  
  
Before Jennifer had a chance to ask her next question, Garrett's "friend" entered the living room. The proverbial pin could have dropped and would have been the only echo against the eerie silence. Jennifer and Gary stared at the woman, shock and disbelief etched on their faces.  
  
Like a Roman who had been thrown into a lion's den, Marcia quickly proceeded to where Garrett, her only ally in the room, was standing. Chivalrously, Garrett wrapped his arm around the small of Marcia's back.  
  
"Mom, Dad. I'd like you to meet my boss and friend, Marcia Roberts."  
  
Chapter 6- Shades of Gray: The Two Faces of Marcia  
  
A chill coursed through Marcia's body. The crazed gleam in Jennifer's eyes told Marcia that she should be afraid. Yet, her inflated ego refused to let her show her fear to Gary's new wife, to give her the satisfaction.  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Hobson." Marcia said sarcastically. "If you're looking for your boyfriend Adam , I doubt that you'll find him in the ladies room."  
  
Jennifer approached Marcia menacingly. "You know, my parents raised me to be a lady. Mom and Dad always taught me that I should turn the other cheek, to pray for my enemies that they would learn to see through their evil ways."  
  
"How commendable." Marcia replied, her words still laced with sarcasm.  
  
"And I've tried to do that. Every night, I pray for you. I feel sorry for you because you're so consumed by bitterness and spite. But today.... today you went too far. It wasn't enough to be vindictive to bring this case to destroy Gary because he found a real woman who not only shows him love, but also has a product of that love for the whole world to see." Jennifer said, gently caressing her stomach. "Even if I could understand your desire to hurt me and Gary, the fact that you'd try to hurt our unborn child, an innocent baby, I'm not going to let you get away with that."  
  
"So you're still insisting that this is Gary's baby? Well, I guess that will help you salvage what's left of your reputation. And poor Gary is so gullible. He'll probably support you until the end by telling people that he's the proud papa. But I bet that deep down he's wondering himself."  
  
"So now you're a psychic? Well, you're wasting your time as an attorney. Think of how much money you could be making on one of those psychic hot lines." Jennifer said sarcastically. "I won't discuss 'my' husband with you. You have no idea what he would be thinking or feeling. You never really knew him." "Still, your Mr. Torrance is a very handsome man and it's obvious that he's head over heels in love with you. I bet the two of you enjoy those very long hours on the set, don't you? You probably can't wait until all your cast mates have left for the day so the two of you can run some more lines on that prop bed, huh? As naive as Gary is, I'm sure that he'll see you for the adulteress that you are." Marcia spewed.  
  
Blinded by rage and no longer able to control her Szabo-Metcalf temper, Jennifer swung her fist as hard as she could, her hand connecting with Marcia's right eye. The force of the punch knocked Marcia to the floor. She screamed in pain.  
  
"And in case you're confused, that was an aggravated assault. I fully intended to cause you harm. Now why don't you go call the bailiff and have me arrested? But let me warn you that the second you do, I'll hold a press conference in my cell. I'm sure that the media would love to hear how Gary's ex-wife attacked his pregnant wife in the ladies room and how I had to defend myself."  
  
"That's a lie." Marcia said, holding her hand to her eye. She slowly got off of the floor.  
  
"Of course it's a lie. But you see, we Metcalfs are very media friendly. I bet the public will believe me before they believe you. They'll realize that you're just a jealous, vengeful little harpy out to destroy your ex- husband. And how do you think that will affect your professional career in this city?"  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Jennifer read the fear in Marcia's eyes. The predator who had enjoyed years of terrorizing and devouring others now understood what it meant to feel trapped. Marcia's eyes searched for an avenue of retreat as Jennifer quickly approached.  
  
Jennifer laughed. "You don't have to worry, Marcia. I'm not going to hit you. I just came here to talk." Jennifer reassured.  
  
Marcia rose from her seat and stood directly facing Jennifer. "I don't see where we have anything to talk about." Marcia said.  
  
"On the contrary, we have a lot to talk about. But I'll keep my comments simple and brief so even you will be able to understand them. I don't know what Gary said to you, but I know my husband. He is such a good person that he probably forgave you for the hell you put him through. My parents taught me to be forgiving, too, but I'm not going to forgive you. Every day, I sat in this court room and listened as you cruelly tortured Gary with your lies. You didn't care how much your lies hurt him. Your only goal was to see him suffer. Do you know how it feels to watch the man you love worry about going to jail, scared that he will be separated from his wife and child? Do you have any idea how it felt for Gary to have the person he was once married to, the woman he once loved, wage a vicious campaign to destroy him? No, of course you don't. Because you never once considered his feelings. You only thought about yourself and how happy it made you feel to have some perverse control over his future. But just like I told you, the jury saw through your lies. They saw that you were a mean, vengeful, spiteful little harpy. And the judge...she really socked it to you, didn't she? Gary may feel badly about you losing your career, but I don't. Your career is all that you have and I'm thrilled that you lost it. I pray that you spend many nights feeling afraid and hopeless about the future because that is exactly how you made Gary feel throughout this trial  
  
And I give you fair warning, Marcia. If you ever come near Gary or our child again, I will kill you. Do you hear me Marcia? I will kill you." Jennifer threatened.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Time is supposed to heal wounds, make them less painful. They don't disappear. Not really. Scars are left on the skin as tangible reminders of these injuries. But emotional wounds are ten times worse than any physical scars. Emotional scars are branded in the mind and on the heart. And those scars hurt even more. You can't touch them or see them everyday, but you live with them. Emotional scars become a part of you. In a quest for inner peace, you make a pact with these emotional scars dwelling inside of your body. You promise to acknowledge their power by never forgetting the lessons that those scars have taught you if they will allow you to live your life without insinuating upon your every waking moment with constant reminders. Once you determine that the pledge has been accepted, you go on with your life. And the emotional scars keep their promise; their voices become faint whispers. Then silence. They become walking shadows as you strut your hours upon the stage called life, the never-ending performance with the perpetual encore.  
  
Until one day, without warning, the pact is unceremoniously broken. A tangible reminder in the form of a long buried nemesis rips apart the floodgates to unpleasant memories. Emotional scars are reborn.  
  
Jennifer stared at Marcia, her icy gaze exuding the intense hatred she felt towards her husband's ex-wife. Hate was wrong. Her parents had taught her that from the time she was a little girl. Granddad told her that you don't hate people, only evil deeds. And she had spent hours over the years at confession and in prayer asking God to remove the hate she felt towards Marcia. But it didn't happen. She thought of how Marcia had hurt Gary by taking the case against him and waging a campaign to see him punished. She thought of the nightmares that caused Gary to scream out from a tormented sleep, his body drenched with sweat terrified that he'd be convicted and snatched away from his wife and child. She knew that Gary had tried preparing both of them for this possibility. She would never forget that memory:  
  
" Jennifer." He whispered.  
  
"Yes." She answered, her fingers still playing with his chest.  
  
"If I ask you to do something for me, would you do it?" He began cryptically.  
  
"Of course." She answered absent-mindedly. However, the sad tone in his voice scared her. "What do you want me to do?" She inquired.  
  
"When your dad calls, I want...I need for you to...." He began, struggling, ".... don't come to court when the verdict is read."  
  
Her head jerked up and she stared into those frightened, mud green eyes. "Why?"  
  
Gary swallowed hard. "I'm trying to have faith, I am, but I know that there's a good chance that I will be convicted. If that happens, Marcia will probably ask for my bail to be revoked. It's likely that she'll argue that because I fled from justice before, I could do it again. And if the judge grants her request, I'll be taken to jail to await sentencing. I-I don't want you there to see me taken away in handcuffs. Please don't come. Please," He pleaded.  
  
"Gary."  
  
"Please, promise me." He begged.  
  
"No, I'm not going to promise you that." She said stubbornly.  
  
"Jennifer."  
  
"Gary."  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"Don't you understand? It's going to be hard enough dealing with what's happening to me without having my wife there to see it."  
  
"What's happening to us. We're connected, Gary Hobson. What happens to you, happens to us. I know that you've spent years being alone, handling things alone, but you don't have to do that anymore. We're a team. Always."  
  
Marcia had taken what was supposed to be the happiest time of their lives and turned it into a daily diet of sex, lies, and videotape. They were newlyweds expecting their first child. Instead, they were spending their days in a court room as hostages to lies. Jennifer sat in that court room listening to Marcia's carefully constructed character assassination of her and Gary. Hot-tempered bar owner intentionally assaulted freelance photographer. Bar owner offered photographer a cash inducement to drop the charges. Bar owner and his close friend and business partner engaged in a clandestine love affair. Actress and lover, her co-star, conceive a baby.  
  
Lies.  
  
But the jury saw through the lies, the smoke screen, and acquitted Gary. Then Fate intervened again with a story in The Paper about Marcia being raped in the lower level ladies room at O'Hare. Despite what she had put him through, Gary didn't hesitate rushing to his ex-wife's aid. However, Marcia showed her gratitude by keeping silent and allowing the police to believe that Gary had been her assailant. Jennifer would never forget that horrible night following Gary's arrest for assault and attempted rape, the night he spent in a jail cell and she spent lying in their bed alone. Their unborn child was her strength and her solace.  
  
That was why she couldn't understand Gary's willingness to forgive Marcia and why he had agreed to become friends with that woman. She should have understood. Gary was a good-hearted, kind, forgiving man. That was one of the things that she loved about him. How could she have asked him to be any less than he was? But Gary didn't maintain a friendship with Marcia.  
  
Jennifer had only thought about Marcia sporadically during those early years of her marriage. She had more important things to focus on. Jennifer had her husband, her children, and her career. Being Mrs. Gary Hobson and raising their children was the best thing that happened to her. Princess Jennifer and Prince Gary with their little prince and princess, Garrett and Kathryn, were a real life fairy tale come true.  
  
But then Princess Kathryn was summoned into Heaven, prematurely removed from the bosom of her family and welcomed into the arms of the angels. Jennifer thought that she would never survive the tremendous grief and the hole in her heart. It was her faith, her love for Gary and Garrett, and her determination to give her son security in the face of tragedy that had kept her going. She held on to the knowledge that wherever Kathryn was in Heaven, Granddad and Grandmom were up there with her taking care of their great-granddaughter. And someday, they would all be together again.  
  
Jennifer watched as Garrett held his arm protectively around Marcia's waist. Marcia stood there playing the damsel in distress. At that moment, Jennifer knew what Marcia's agenda was. It wasn't a coincidence that Marcia happened to hire Garrett. Perhaps Marcia had allowed her revenge to simmer for twenty years; yet, revenge was a meal Marcia had always intended to partake in. Garrett's desire to become a lawyer offered Marcia the perfect opportunity. Jennifer swelled with anger. She knew that Marcia was interested in more than Garrett's legal acumen or his ability to research issues for a brief. Garrett was intelligent, sensitive, kind, handsome, and naive. He provided Marcia with the perfect vehicle for revenge and to serve her wanton desires. Jennifer wouldn't allow that viper to seduce Garrett. She'd kill that woman before she'd let that happen.  
  
"How dare you come into our home! Get out of here, now!" Jennifer yelled at Marcia.  
  
"Mom!" Garrett responded, shocked by his mother's hostility. He had never seen his mother so angry. She had always welcomed his friends into their house. How could she act like this? Garrett glanced at his father. Dad didn't move. Dad had a strange expression on his face like he was shell-shocked.  
  
Marcia turned to face Garrett, "Garrett, this was a bad idea. I should have never come here."  
  
"No, I invited you and I want you here. Mom, what's the manner with you?!"  
  
"Garrett, don't use that tone with your mother." Gary admonished.  
  
But Jennifer didn't answer her son. Instead, she concentrated on Marcia. Marcia shivered and moved closer towards Garrett.  
  
"Well, Marcia. Are you going to leave or do I have to throw you out?" Jennifer said. She started towards Marcia. But Gary gently grabbed his wife's arm. "Okay, I think that we all should calm down." Gary paused briefly before continuing. "Marcia, I think that you and I should talk. Alone."  
  
Chapter 7- The Threads of Irony  
  
The study boasted his distinctive imprint. Its decor was like a telling, unique fingerprint of a simple man. Wood paneling covered the walls' nakedness. The hardwood floors were shiny and welcoming. His desk and chair were made of oak, solid and dependable. A computer sat regally on the desk. Two small black leather chairs obediently faced the desk. A brick fireplace stood shyly along a far corner.  
  
There were no Renoir, Matisse, Monet, or Degas hanging from the walls. Instead, the walls were decorated with works of art that was more precious to him and kissed his heart more completely than any of the masters' artistic accomplishments that guaranteed them immortality via their purposeful brushstrokes.  
  
With a twinge of sadness, she gazed at the gallery of photos paying homage to a rich and fulfilling life. Jennifer and Gary's wedding picture. Jennifer was wearing an ivory duchess satin dress with a tight fitting bodice, a heart shaped neckline, and long tight sleeves. The flowing full skirt and a long train embroidered with tiny pearls and crystals in an intricate floral completed the dress. The cathedral style veil accentuated the dress and exuded fairy tale elegance. The diaphanous veil framed her face. A tiara and double strand necklace completed her attire. Gary was predictably handsome in his black waistcoat and bow tie, black pants, white shirt with wing collars and cuff links and red cummerbund. Marcia stared mesmerized at the picture of her ex-husband on his wedding day over twenty years ago.  
  
There were other pictures. A family portrait of Jennifer, Gary, Garrett, and Kathryn. The background of the portrait was a soothing pale blue. Jennifer had on a red velvet dress. Her hair was in a French twist. She was seated in a chair holding a baby, perhaps six or seven months old. Both mother and daughter were smiling. The beautiful little cherub, with blond hair and blue eyes that radiated on the image, also wore a little red velvet dress. Gary and Garrett flanked Jennifer and Kathryn standing on each side of the chair looking stunning in their matching charcoal suits. The four-year-old was a miniature mirror image of his daddy with his mud green eyes and dark hair. And Garrett had inherited that warm and sincere "Gary Hobson smile" in spades. Other pictures showed the children in various stages of their life. The last photo of Kathryn was the six-year- old in her school uniform. Her long blond hair sparkled and her bright blue eyes held wisdom. Marcia saw Garrett's high school graduation picture a traditional shot of him wearing a cap and gown and holding a diploma. He was standing against a makeshift background of a bookcase. And there was Garrett's college graduation picture in his cap and gown standing in the middle of his proud parents. The Hobsons were beaming.  
  
Marcia had walked the long hallway leading towards the study with the heavy footsteps of a condemned prisoner journeying that final mile towards execution. The last meal had been denied.  
  
Gary had closed the door to the study. He proceeded to his desk and sat behind the chair. His mud green eyes focused intently on his ex-wife. He had uncharacteristically ignored the usual pleasantries of offering his guest a seat. It probably wouldn't have mattered anyway. In this instance, Marcia preferred to stand. She felt more in control that way. Marcia was in Gary's lair, but she refused to be his victim.  
  
A brief, yet agonizing silence.  
  
"It's been a long time, Gary." She said simply and with a trace of awkwardness.  
  
"What's you game here, Marcia?" He replied coldly.  
  
"Game?"  
  
"I haven't seen you in over twenty years and you waltz in here on my son's arm. He tells us that you're his boss and his friend."  
  
"That's true. I hired Garrett several weeks ago. He's an extremely bright young man. His understanding of the law is impressive. He's going to be quite an asset to the legal profession. But he reminds me so much of you. He's kind and sensitive. Those aren't attributes that you see very often in lawyers. You raised a wonderful boy. And yes, I consider myself his friend. We have a nice, comfortable personal relationship. I would like to see that relationship continue."  
  
"Would you? Just like you wanted you and me to have a friendship, a nice comfortable relationship all those years ago? Of course, that was after you tried to crucify me in that court room and let this city believe that I tried to rape you."  
  
"Gary, all that was a mistake. I should have never taken that case against you. But I was hurt and I was angry that you had led me on..."  
  
"I never led you on."  
  
"...that you had led me on, made me think that you wanted to get back together, when all along you were involved with that tram...ah...that actress. And I would have never allowed them to send you to prison. I cleared you of the attempted rape charge, remember?"  
  
"Yeah. Oh, yeah. I remember. I remember that it was the day after I had spent a night in a jail cell."  
  
"Gary, I was confused. And I was terrified about what almost happened to me. I wasn't thinking clearly, I admit that. But I thought that we could have put all the bitterness behind us."  
  
"I thought so, too. Loving you...marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life. I haven't thought about you at all during these years. I don't know what your game here is, but whatever it is, I'm not going to allow you to hurt my son!"  
  
Marcia bristled from the pain caused by Gary's words, but she quickly rebounded. "I don't have an agenda, Gary. I've changed. And I see that you have, too. When did you become so self-righteous? I would have thought that this religion, this Catholic faith that you have adopted, would have taught you a thing or two about forgiveness. And while we're talking about you now being such a devout Catholic, did you also turn into a hypocrite, too? I've listened to Garrett's extolling such praise for you, for his father, and the wonderful, I think he called it storybook marriage that his parents have. Except you forgot to mention to your son who admires and looks up to you that you were married before you married his mother. How do you suppose Garrett will feel when he learns the truth? How do you think that he'll feel about you when he discovers that you've lied to him all these years?"  
  
Chapter 8- Like a Moth to the Flame  
  
Their eyes locked in a desperate stare before fitfully dancing in a silent duel of wills. She had always been the aggressor in these psychological battles. When they were married, he had conceded many a battle. It wasn't because his position was meritless. Hardly. It was because he loved her and he would have done anything to make her happy even at his own expense. "When can we start our family?" "I'm not ready, Gary. It's too soon. I need to establish my position at the law firm first." His heart sank with disappointment each year he witnessed his dream of fatherhood become a casualty to her career obsession. Then a wedding anniversary, changed locks, flying suitcase, and a divorce was her indisputable answer of whether she wanted to be the mother of his children.  
  
She hurt him. She hurt him very badly. And that hurt lasted for a very long time. He felt the hurt in the still of night as he lay in bed and was lulled to sleep by unknown voices, whispers, laughter even, about his failure as a husband. And he felt the hurt, searing against his chest, whenever he saw a father and child playing in the park sharing that special language, that bond of parent and child. Those were the times when nothing he did could quiet the ache in his chest.  
  
He had given up the dream of a happy, loving, long lasting marriage and fatherhood until Fate allowed for his destiny to be fulfilled.  
  
Why couldn't she have remained buried in his past? Why had she resurfaced now to contaminate his family's lives?  
  
He heard the venom punctuating her words. "I don't have an agenda, Gary. I've changed. And I see that you have, too. When did you become so self- righteous? I would have thought that this religion, this Catholic faith that you have adopted, would have taught you a thing or two about forgiveness. And while we're talking about you being such a devout Catholic, did you also become a hypocrite, too? I've listened to Garrett extolling such praise for you, for his father, and the wonderful, I think that he called it storybook marriage that his parents have. Except that you forgot to mention to your son who admires and looks up to you that you were married before you married his mother. How do you suppose Garrett will feel when he learns the truth? How do you think that he'll feel about you when he discovers that you have lied to him all these years?"  
  
The air was awashed with the unpleasant connotation he picked up from her words. His eyes became ablazed with fire as he jumped up from his chair and glared at her. She flinched from the cold intensity of his stare. If she were Napoleon, this moment would have ranked as her own private Waterloo. She wasn't used to feeling so defeated.  
  
"First of all, Marcia, what my wife and I tell our son is none of your business. And second, was that a threat? Because if it was there's no way I'd..."  
  
"No, Gary. No. Of course I wasn't threatening you. I'm sorry. That didn't come out the way it should have. What I meant was that Garrett seems very innocent. He seems to have unrealistic attitudes about marriage. I know that you love your son, but is it really fair to him that you've taught him about marriage as some ideal instead of the way it really is?"  
  
Gary paused briefly before responding. "You're right, Marcia. You're right. Jennifer and I taught Garrett that marriage was about love, commitment, and respect for your spouse, that your spouse is your best friend. We taught him that there are bumpy spots in every marriage, but that the key is talking through your problems and working on a solution together. What we should have told him is that you should wait until your spouse goes off to work on your wedding anniversary, have their suitcase packed, change the locks on the front door, throw their clothes out the window, refuse to take their phone calls, and then send the process server to them." Gary said sarcastically.  
  
Ouch.  
  
A brief, yet excruciating silence.  
  
"I have changed, Gary." She repeated for emphasis. "I no longer work at a big law firm with a large office and two hundred dollar an hour clients. I represent mostly women and children now. I love what I'm doing and I'm very good at it. And so is Garrett. He's wonderful with children. Whenever a client comes in with a child, his face lights up and he spends time with the child. Children feel at ease with him. And whenever he researches and writes about children's rights issues, there's such passion in his work. He's making a difference, Gary. Do you really want to take that away from him because of what you feel about me? Do you want me to fire him just so we won't work together anymore, so we won''t see each other?"  
  
Another brief silence.  
  
"No, I'm not asking you to fire him. I wouldn't want to take away something he loves doing. But I give you fair warning, Marcia. If I suspect that you're using this job in some elaborate scheme to hurt him..." He allowed the rest of his thought to dangle in the air certain that she understood his intentions. "Now, I think that we're finished."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
  
  
Like a caged lioness, Jennifer paced the floor, intense anger characterizing her gait. How dare Marcia come back into their lives after all these years?  
  
What is going on? Garrett wondered. He had never seen his mother like this. Mom had always welcomed his friends into their home. She was always kind to strangers. The way she treated Marcia wasn't the mother that he knew. And why did Dad want to talk to Marcia alone?  
  
"Mom, what's going on? Why won't you talk to me?"  
  
Marcia entered the living room followed by Gary. "I'm sorry, Garrett. My coming here was a mistake. I'm going to call a cab and go home." Marcia said.  
  
Garrett saw the remnants of tears in Marcia's eyes. He turned to face his father. "Dad, what did you say to her?"  
  
A palpable hush blanketed the room like a bewitching fog that trapped people in its eerie mist, seemingly amused by its control over temperaments.  
  
Gary didn't answer.  
  
Garrett felt anger swelling up inside of him. There was something going on here, something that they all knew and they weren't sharing with him. He was being treated like a child and he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.  
  
"You don't have to call a cab, Marcia." Garrett said breaking the silence. "I'll take you home." He glanced at Jennifer and Gary. "You're my *date* and my parents taught me to be a gentleman."  
  
Hearing Garrett refer to Marcia as his "date" sent a chill through Jennifer. However, Gary looked at Garrett and read something else in Garrett's obvious choice of the word. For as much as people had told him over the years that Garrett inherited his physical appearance and temperament, Gary often saw the Metcalf in Garrett. Garrett Jeffrey Hobson was his maternal great-grandfather with a fierce temper and stubborn disposition. And there was clear defiance in Garrett's tone and word choice.  
  
Garrett met Gary's stare before escorting Marcia to the door. He did not wish his parents a good evening before leaving the house with Marcia.  
  
During the car ride, Garrett tried to get Marcia to confide in him about what his father had said to her. He could tell that she was visibly upset. He even invited her back to his apartment to talk. He flashed her a boyish and charming smile before reminding her that he was her friend, that he cared about her, and that he hated to see her so unhappy especially since his parents were the cause. He could cook her dinner and they could talk. His Grandmom Lois taught him how to cook and he was pretty good at it.  
  
Marcia returned his smile, but she refused his invitation. She insisted that he drive her back to her apartment. When they arrived at the destination, he walked her to the door. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and told him that she would see him tomorrow at work.  
  
And that was it.  
  
A short while later, Garrett arrived at his own apartment. He considered calling his parents, but changed his mind. Something nagged at his gut that there was more going on here. Maybe he could call Uncle Chuck or Aunt Marissa. They would know what was going on. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck before dismissing these options. Finally, he realized who he could call. Garrett proceeded to the phone and dialed a number. The phone rang several times before a familiar voice greeted him.  
  
"Hello, Aunt Sky? It's Garrett. Can you come over to my place right now? There's something important I want to talk to you about."  
  
Chapter 9- From Snake Killer to Peace Maker  
  
Slices of beef, flour, cooking oil, vegetable juice, an onion, sliced potatoes, green beans, corn, and carrots sat on the kitchen table. Dried oregano and Worcestershire sauce were late additions that joined the other "victims" on the table. A large pot of water succumbed to the heat on the stove and began bubbling enthusiastically. Like a pro, he methodically picked up the various items and then tossed them into the watery grave and watched them as they swam fervently in the intense ripple. Alone, the ingredients were arguably insignificant. Together, they were part of a team that would shortly constitute dinner. That was the thing about a team. It was a group of players that capitalized on their individual strengths towards a mutual goal of victory. Each member was a shining star and a winner. It was the same with a family. Each member was unique with his or her attributes, but together, they were a winning team. At least, that was what his parents taught him at a very early age.  
  
Garrett stared into the pot. The boiling water and intoxicating smell perfuming the air proved hypnotic. His mind drifted to the pleasant memories growing up when Grandmom Lois taught him how to cook. He remembered wanting to learn partly because it gave him a chance to spend special time with his grandmother where no one else was included and partly because Grandmom Lois told him that cooking was a skill that Dad had never acquired. Garrett chuckled when Grandmom Lois told him of all the times in her kitchen in Hickory when she tried teaching Dad how to cook. Poor Dad! Grandmom Lois said Dad tried so hard, but his culinary efforts always brought out the Hickory Fire Department. It got embarrassing explaining the heavy clouds of smoke seeping from the Hobson home and billowing the neighborhood air as Gary's cooking exploits. Lois was determined and Gary was a willing pupil, but mother and son eventually had to accept the fact that Gary would never make a cook, at least not make anything fit for human consumption.  
  
But Garrett was another story. He was a quick study and a surprisingly gifted cook. Maybe it was those Metcalf genes that contributed to his cooking acumen. Surely, Anne Metcalf was smiling from heaven, amused and pleased that her great-great grandson had proudly carried on an honored family tradition.  
  
Garrett's memories were replaced with thoughts of his confrontation tonight with his parents. Twice he had walked over to the phone planning to call them and twice he had vetoed the idea. He felt terrible that they had made him so angry that he didn't even say goodbye when he left their house. He had never before left the house without saying goodbye to them. But then he thought about Marcia, her spirit broken and her eyes glazed with tears. Marcia was his friend; he cared about her very much. Mom and Dad had been cruel and had hurt her. There was no excuse for their behavior.  
  
Except if maybe there was. That's why he called Aunt Sky and invited her over to his apartment to talk. Aunt Sky had to know something that would shed light on this puzzling situation. Aunt Sky told him that she hadn't eaten yet, so he decided to cook dinner for the two of them, so that they could eat while they talked.  
  
The loud ringing of the telephone jolted the aspiring lawyer from his musings. He decided to let the answering machine take the call. He flinched when the very perturbed voice of Grandfather Jeffrey poured from the device. Grandfather Jeffrey didn't enunciate the cause for his displeasure, but Garrett knew that he had done something wrong especially when his grandfather demanded to see him tomorrow and peppered the conversation with a strategically placed "young man" that made Garrett feel like a ten year old. Had Mom called Grandfather Jeffrey and told him about what had happened at the house tonight? No, of course not. Mom wouldn't do that. Maybe Grandfather Jeffrey had discovered that he was not working at one of the large and prestigious law firms downtown and planned to scold him about throwing a lucrative job out the window. Garrett sighed forlornly. This was one of those times when he wished that The Paper offered him advance warning about how to handle his grandfather's unexpected volcanic eruptions. But then again, a lawyer was expected to know how to think on his feet. Handling his grandfather was the best supplement to his legal education. Anyway, what he needed to concentrate on tonight was picking Aunt Sky's brain. Like the battle cry from that classic sci-fi television show "The X Files", the truth was out there. He just needed to find it.  
  
The water hissed. The beef and potatoes appeared to tango, alive and vibrant as they stubbornly fought the punishing water's efforts at turning them limp. They refused to be defeated.  
  
Just like Garrett Jeffrey Hobson.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Growing old was the scourge of many women. The Fountain of Youth eluded them so they relied on other means to defy the gravitational pull of Father Time. Plastic surgeons were expected to sculpture youth into wrinkled features, smoothing lines from under the eyes and around the mouth. Liposuction or vanity's vacuuming was the solution to firming thighs against menacing fat.  
  
"Grow old with me, the best is yet to be" the immortal words of Elizabeth Barrett Browning had challenged. Of course, sonnets were for the lovers who had a partner to grow old with. Old age wasn't so bad when you had someone you loved who mirrored you in the wrinkle department. Growing old alone wasn't as much fun. Maybe it was all in attitude because Sky Fairfax didn't curse the passage of time. She didn't see wrinkles or white hair as a burden. She had had a good life. She was still enjoying life even in her late sixties. Old age didn't mock her. Instead, it embraced her. Growing old hadn't interfered with her stride one iota.  
  
In some ways, there was still a twelve-year girl dwelling inside the body of the well-respected doctor. As she sat in the cab, Sky couldn't help but smile as fond memories swirled around in her head like joyous fairies. It seemed like a lifetime ago when an independent tomboy crossed paths with a shy four-year old who had wandered away from his parents during a camping trip and had faced possible death at the jaws of a large timber rattlesnake. Undaunted, Sky had found the frightened little boy and killed the snake by cutting off the reptile's head with her hunting knife. She saved the snake's rattles, spoils of her victory perhaps. Then she comforted the little boy. What a sweet, adorable, shy little guy he was. Gary Matthew Hobson. It was love at first sight for both of them as they forged a sibling relationship and a special friendship. Later, Sky's family moved to Hickory and "adopted" Gary, too. Lois and Bernie were naturally grateful that Sky had saved Gary and also took the little girl into their hearts. The eight-year age difference didn't hinder Gary and Sky's friendship. Sky and Gary shared more then their birthdays. They shared a special bond. They were protective of each other. They loved each other unquestionably.  
  
Their lives had taken them on separate journeys, but Sky and Gary rediscovered each other as adults. Fate had tested them by thrusting them in deadly situations. Gary saved Sky's life and she saved his. Sky would never forget when Gary was beaten, drugged, and left in a cave to die. The guy who received tomorrow's newspaper today had been rescued by his surrogate sister.  
  
Sky chuckled at the memory of Gary dressed as an elf at the Christmas Party for the VA Hospital. Okay, maybe she was unfair to blackmail his cooperation because he felt guilty for accidentally causing her an injury, but sometimes he was such an easy target.  
  
Sky's wanderlust and love for people and various cultures were an asset as she traveled the world and used her medical training for the benefit of the less fortunate. When she returned to her clinic in Chicago after an absence of several years, she was shocked to learn that Gary had remarried and had a son. Sky immediately bonded with her surrogate nephew and enjoyed a warm relationship with Jennifer. In addition, Sky had hired Jessica Metcalf as a staff doctor at the clinic. The two women developed a close professional and personal relationship.  
  
The sound of the cab driver's voice announcing the arrival at the destination broke Sky's reverie. She paid the fare and proceeded to Garrett's apartment. Sky's gait was proud and determined. She was a tall and stately woman. Age had not minimized her elegant carriage one bit.  
  
Garrett greeted Aunt Sky with a warm hug and kiss on the cheek. The moment she entered his apartment, she opened her purse, pulled out a wad of money, and handed it to him.  
  
"Aunt Sky, you don't have to do this. I'm working now. You don't have to give me money."  
  
"And when can't a law student use extra money? I know how expensive law books are. Have you forgotten that there's a lawyer in my family? Besides, I've spoiled you rotten since you were a baby and I have no intention of stopping now."  
  
"I'm not spoiled rotten." Garrett protested.  
  
Sky laughed. "You most certainly are. Spoiled rotten to the core, just like your Dad." She teased. Garrett returned her laugh.  
  
A short while later, they sat down to dinner. The initial conversation was the update of what had been happening in their lives. Sky still enjoyed her work at the clinic even though she was on a reduced schedule. Garrett told her about law school and working. Finally, he broached the matter that concerned him and his purpose for wanting to talk to her tonight.  
  
"I just don't understand Mom and Dad. I brought a friend from work, actually my boss, over to dinner because I wanted her to meet my parents, and they were very rude to her."  
  
Sky took a bite of her stew. "That doesn't sound like Jennifer and Gary. Maybe they were just being overprotective parents. You brought over a female friend, but what your mom and dad were seeing was a date, possibly a woman you're interested in. It's not always easy for parents to let go and sometimes they get crazy when they think of their child dating. Sure, they know that you're an adult, but in some ways, you will always be their little boy." Sky reasoned.  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"I can understand that Aunt Sky, really I can, but that doesn't give them the right to be rude and cruel. Marcia didn't deserve that."  
  
"Marcia?"  
  
"Yeah, Marcia Roberts. That's my friend and boss. She is a kind, intelligent, and caring woman."  
  
Sky let out a violent cough nearly choking on her stew when she learned the identity of Garrett's friend.  
  
"Are you okay Aunt Sky?"  
  
Sky took a sip of her water. "I'm...I'm fine. Marcia Roberts? Marcia Roberts was the woman you brought over to your parents' house?"  
  
"Yeah. Why?"  
  
Another brief silence.  
  
Sky briefly studied the confused, yet intense mud green eyes staring at her. His eyes. So much like Gary's eyes. He deserved to know the truth.  
  
"Garrett, there's a history between your parents and Marcia."  
  
"A history?"  
  
"Yes. I promised your parents that I would never tell you about that history and for years they've kept it from you because they love you and wanted to protect you. But it's time that you knew. It's time that you learned the truth." Sky arose from her seat. Instinctively, Garrett stood up.  
  
"Come on, let's go." Sky insisted.  
  
"Go?"  
  
"Yes, we're going back to your parents' house. Jennifer and Gary may not be ready to tell you the truth about their history with Marcia, but they owe it to you and I'm going to make sure that all of you stubborn Hobsons talk and listen to each other." Sky vowed.  
  
With those words, Sky and Garrett left his apartment for the trip back to Jennifer and Gary's house, a journey towards the truth.  
  
Chapter 10- Shattered Utopia  
  
He had been blessed with one of those voices that reeked of warmth and sincerity. It was an alluring voice that was inviting and comforting, a voice that embraced both friends and strangers. It was a voice that was understated and unpretentious. The kind of voice that was sprinkled with sexiness and could raise goose bumps on a woman's skin.  
  
He had inherited more than his father's eyes and caring spirit. He had inherited his father's voice.  
  
"You've reached Garrett Hobson. I'm not in right now, but please leave a message after the beep and I'll return your call as soon as I can. Thanks."  
  
Beep.  
  
"Garrett. Garrett, honey, it's your mother. If you're there, please pick up the phone." Jennifer paused for a brief moment as she awaited a response. "Okay. Well, I guess that you're not there. Call me as soon as you get this message. Okay? Okay, bye."  
  
Jennifer hung up the phone. This call represented the second time that she had tried to reach her son only to get his answering machine. There was a part of her that believed that Garrett was sitting right there, listening to her voice, and purposefully not picking up the phone. He was angry when he left the house earlier. Perhaps this well-constructed silent treatment was his way of getting even.  
  
Sometimes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.  
  
Jennifer recalled one of her long buried childhood memories. She was about eight or nine years old and had pleaded with her father to take riding lessons. It had taken some heavy duty convincing but finally Dad had agreed. Her instructor said that she was a natural in the saddle. But she was impatient. It didn't take long for her to grow bored with the mundane and uninspired trotting. She longed to take an oxer. She knew that she could jump that fence. Her instructor disagreed. She hadn't been riding for very long. In a few months, maybe. Defiantly and against her instructor's wishes, the little girl jumped the makeshift oxer that had been set up for the more advanced students. Instead of the glory of victory, Jennifer Metcalf tasted failure when she landed face down in the dirt. When Dad learned of her disobedience, he punished her by taking away her riding lessons. All of her pleading and crocodile tears proved futile so she vowed never to speak to him again. For one week, she would talk to her mother, but act as if her father were invisible. The lawyer who had earned a national reputation for strategic maneuvering and impressive courtroom performances was putty in his daughter's hands. He had suffered from the punishment more than she had. A short while later, Jennifer was permitted to resume her lessons.  
  
If it is every grandparent's ultimate revenge to see their grandchildren subject their parents to the same torture that their children had given them, then Jessica and Jeffrey Metcalf, Jr. would be thrilled to learn of Garrett's behavior.  
  
"I know that he's there and he's just ignoring my calls." Jennifer fumed to Gary.  
  
"You don't know that. Maybe he went out." Gary offered.  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"Oh God!" Jennifer exclaimed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Maybe he's with her. Maybe this whole evening was all part of her plan. She hires our son. And by Garrett's reaction to her, she knew that we hadn't told him about her. So she makes him believe that she is a kind and caring woman. She probably jumped at the chance to come over here tonight because she knew what our reaction would be seeing her on Garrett's arm. She's probably with him now playing the wounded damsel in distress, crying over our treatment of her so he'll comfort her. Then she can seduce him. Garrett is so naive and he has such a good heart that he wouldn't even know what hit him. And that disgusting little harpy, that Mrs. Robinson wannabe, could kill two birds with one stone- hurt Garrett and hurt us by sleeping with him and feeling desirable because she succeeded in going to bed with a man young enough to be her son." Jennifer said her tone frantic.  
  
Gary proceeded to where his wife was standing. He placed his hands on her shoulders. Gazing into her eyes, he said, "Honey, listen to me. Garrett may be angry with us now and he may be naive, but he's very smart. And he's not going to throw away the values that we've taught him by doing anything in haste. Don't worry. Everything will be okay. I promise."  
  
Jennifer stared deeply into his soft and gentle eyes. After over twenty years of marriage, Gary still knew what words to say to calm her. How different their temperaments were. He was an introvert who was often reflective. She was an extrovert who could be volatile and unpredictable. He had teased her over the years by insisting that containing her Metcalf temper was akin to attempting to trap a tornado inside of a bottle. Yet, even if she were a storm and he were the peaceful aftermath, the rainbow, they completed each other so effortlessly and always would.  
  
Another brief silence.  
  
"Gary?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you think that we were wrong not telling Garrett about Marcia all these years?"  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Mud green eyes focused intently on the road even as his brain concentrated on the meaning of his aunt's cryptic statement. Finally, his mind grew impatient from wondering. He wanted to know and he wanted to know now. He was just like his mother in that way. Perhaps impatience was an inherited trait, too.  
  
"Aunt Sky?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What did you mean when you said that Mom, Dad, and Marcia had a history?"  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"You know, I remember the first time I laid eyes on you." Sky said changing the subject. "I had been away from Chicago for several years and I was surprised to return and discover that your dad had married and had a son. I couldn't believe that he hadn't written me with the news, but then again I was traveling around a lot and Gary was never much of a letter writer. Anyway, I met your mom and I liked her right away. She had you in her arms. You had to be the most beautiful baby that I had ever seen. You were so chubby and had the most adorable fat cheeks. And you had your dad's eyes. You looked at me and I could have sworn that you wanted to say something. I can remember when your Uncle Jamie was trying to teach you how to roar like Puff the Magic Dragon. I think that you were maybe three years old. The first few times you tried it didn't come out very much like a roar. I looked at your face. You were so frustrated, but determined. Finally, you let out this great big roar. You looked at Jamie and me and then you gave us this big smile. You were so proud. I remember how excited you were when we got you that pony for your birthday. Your parents were shocked. To this day I'm not sure if Gary liked the idea, but he knew that he was outnumbered between Jennifer, my family, and me. And once when I was baby sitting you, I think that you were almost four, you didn't want me to give you a bath. I was able to get all of your clothes off but I ended up spending almost a half-hour chasing you around your parents' house. You were so fast running around completely nude. You just didn't want to take that bath for anything."  
  
Garrett's felt very warm as a noticeable blush colored his face. "Aunt Sky, do you have to bring up that story?"  
  
Sky let out a laugh. "Sweetie, don't you know that the people who love you the most always remember your most embarrassing childhood antics? But don't worry because I stopped showing all those naked baby pictures that I took of you to people years ago." Sky teased. She was amused by Garrett's still very colorful response to her teasing. "And I remember when you were six years old." Sky continued. You were constantly being tormented by a school bully, some kid who was three years old than you."  
  
"Yeah, every time he pushed me down the nuns were never around in the school yard to see it. I didn't want the other kids to see me crying and think that I was this big baby. I remembered that I skinned my knees pretty badly when I fell and I came to Sam to patch me up."  
  
"Ah, yes. Good old Sam Delaney. He was the one who said that you needed to know how to defend yourself so he taught you how to box." Sky added.  
  
"Yep, I remembered thinking how cool Sam was- a male nurse who had also been a boxer. The next time that kid tried to bully me, I gave him a bloody nose. I got suspended and Grandfather Jeffrey lectured me about how fighting was a sin and that I was never going to solve any of my problems in life by acting like a cave man. And he made me go to confession. But you know something? I wasn't sorry because that kid deserved it. Sam was great. I would have never won that fight without his help."  
  
Another brief silence.  
  
"Sam was the one who found you that time that you ran away from home. How old were you then?"  
  
"Seven, I think."  
  
"That's right."  
  
"I remember thinking that Mom and Dad didn't love me anymore because they had Kathryn. I got jealous about all the time that they were spending with her."  
  
"We searched for you for hours. We looked all over Chicago. We were all so upset. It was getting dark and cold and Jennifer was frantic that you were outside by yourself. Sam thought to look in the one place that we all hadn't thought to look- the clinic. He found you hiding in one of the examination rooms with your face covered in fudge."  
  
"I was hungry."  
  
"At least you remembered to pack food."  
  
"Your parents were so happy to learn that you were okay."  
  
"I thought that they were going to be mad at me for running away, but they hugged me and said that they loved me more than anything and how could I think for a moment that they didn't. Dad said that I should never run away without talking over our problems." Garrett paused when he realized the irony of his childhood memory to his current situation with his parents. A few moments later, he pulled the car up to the curb near his parents' house. He got out of the car then walked over to the passenger side, opened the door for Aunt Sky, and helped her out. Sky really didn't need help exiting the car, but she indulged Garrett. He was such a gentleman. They walked the path towards the house. Upon reaching the front door, Garrett rang the doorbell.  
  
Jennifer opened the door. She was happy to see her son, but was a little surprised to see Sky. She invited them into the house and they entered the living room where Gary was seated on the couch. Gary stood up when he saw Garrett and Sky.  
  
"You two have a very upset and confused young man here." Sky began taking control of the situation. "I love all three of you too much to see you hurting each other like this. Jennifer. Gary. Normally, I wouldn't interfere in your parental decisions and I know that you made some of them because you felt that you were doing what was best for Garrett, but he isn't a child anymore. You owe him the truth. You owe him the truth about your history with Marcia and I'm here to make sure that you tell him."  
  
Jennifer and Gary flashed each other worried looks. "Look, Sky. I know that you care and we appreciate your concern, but this is a family matter."  
  
Gary regretted the words the moment they left his mouth when he saw the hurt and angered expression on Sky's face.  
  
"A family matter? And since when am I not a part of your family, Gary Matthew Hobson?" Sky chided.  
  
Oh Boy.  
  
"I...I...um...I didn't mean to say...I mean, of course you are part of the family...I just meant..." Gary stammered nervously.  
  
"I know what you meant, Gary. And I know that you want to stall and keep this secret. The only reason I didn't tell Garrett myself is because I promised you years ago that I wouldn't and because this is something that he needs to hear from his parents."  
  
"Mom, Dad. I want to know. I want to know why you treated Marcia the way that you did. She is such a wonderful woman. She didn't deserve to be treated the way she was."  
  
"Marcia is a wonderful woman? Is that what she's been telling you?" Jennifer seethed.  
  
"Honey..." Gary tried to calm his wife down.  
  
Soon, Gary, Jennifer, and Garrett began talking at the same time as their emotions reached the boiling point.  
  
Sky placed her fingers between her teeth and let out a loud whistle that ended the chaos. The Hobsons stopped talking.  
  
Jennifer still looked as if she were ready to explode. Sky knew that she needed to calm Jennifer down. "Gary, why don't you take Garrett into your study? I want to talk to Jennifer first."  
  
Gary glanced at his wife who surprisingly didn't put up a fight over Sky's suggestion. He and Garrett walked the hallway towards Gary's study. It felt like the longest walk of Gary's life.  
  
Gary closed the door to the study. He proceeded to his desk and picked up a photo of Garrett. It was a baby picture of his son in a small sterling silver frame.  
  
Garrett watched his father intently.  
  
"Time goes by so quickly. I can remember the day that this picture was taken. You were just six months old. Look at you now. A grown man. I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud of the kind of man that you have become. I know that things haven't been easy. That it's not easy with you handling The Paper and going to school. I never wanted you to have that burden, The Paper."  
  
"I know, Dad. But I don't mind, really. You've given your life to helping people. Now it's time for you to have your life back again. Now it's my turn."  
  
Gary smiled at Garrett. "I love you, son. I love you, admire you, and respect you. You have to believe me that I would never do anything to hurt you. You believe me, don't you?"  
  
"Of course, Dad."  
  
Gary rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Garrett could see that he was struggling with what he was about to say next.  
  
"Garrett, your Aunt Sky was right when she told you that Marcia, your mother, and me had a history, a history that goes back a very long time ago, long before you were born."  
  
"What kind of history?"  
  
A brief, yet excruciating silence.  
  
"Dad? What kind of history?"  
  
"Garrett...son...years ago...before I met your mother, Marcia and I..."  
  
"Marcia and you what?"  
  
"Marcia and I...we..." Gary let out a deep breath. "We were married. Garrett, Marcia was my wife." 


	2. Chapter 11 The Illusion of Perfection

Chapter 11- The Illusion of Perfection  
  
He wasn't salivating, but his mud green eyes were as smoldering as the heat.  
  
Marcia had removed her navy blue suit jacket. Her bare arms, neck, and hint of cleavage were left exposed by her camisole-styled blouse.  
  
She brushed a stray hair from her face as she continued focusing on the casebook in front of her.  
  
He swallowed hard. It was now or never.  
  
"Marcia." He whispered.  
  
She looked up from her book. "Yes?" She answered her eyes looking deeply into his. Her eyes were like pools of light in which he felt himself drowning.  
  
The air was thick with sexual tension. Both of them knew it. He gently cupped her face.  
  
"What are you doing?" She asked even as she clearly knew his intentions.  
  
"This." Was his simple reply before he leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. But there was something more to that kiss. It was hungry; desperate, maybe, with an undercurrent of unleashed passion percolating to the surface.  
  
Finally, their lips parted. She seemed breathless as a new trail of sweat journeyed from her neck towards her breasts.  
  
"Garrett."  
  
Her voice tickled his insides.  
  
"Garrett!"  
  
The spell was broken. And so ended was a daydream of desire.  
  
Garrett was jolted back to reality.  
  
"Marcia?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"How come you never got married?"  
  
"I was married." She said softly, a trace of sadness in her voice.  
  
Garrett remembered. The memory, the unfolding of the truth began eating away at him like some vengeful parasite. Marcia was married...she was married to...Oh God! What had Dad just said? That he was married to Marcia...that Marcia was his...his wife?"  
  
Oh God!  
  
Garrett recalled how guilty he felt having impure thoughts about Marcia. She was his boss and his friend. She was a caring and intelligent woman whose passion for her work had made an incredible difference in so many lives. He was attracted to her mind. That was what he tried telling himself even as he battled the desires that he felt for her, desire that admittedly had little to do with her intellect. He had gone to confession and prayed that he could be forgiven of this sin. But now it was even worse than he could have possibly imagined. Marcia had been Dad's wife. He had had thoughts like this about a woman who had been married to his father, which meant that she and Dad must have...Oh God! Garrett fought back a powerful wave of nausea that crashed against his insides like a tsunami. He felt as if he were going to be sick.  
  
"Garrett? Son, are you okay?" Gary asked concerned when he saw the expression on Garrett's face.  
  
Garrett nodded, but the gesture was hardly reassuring.  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"You...you and Marcia...she was...your wife?"  
  
"Yes." Gary whispered.  
  
Another brief, yet agonizing silence.  
  
"No." Garrett finally said.  
  
"No?"  
  
"No. No, you couldn't have been married to Marcia. You're Catholic. And all those times, all those times in church when Father Donnelly talked about divorce being a sin, about marriage being a sacred bond and you never said anything? All these years and you never said anything? No, you wouldn't have done that. You wouldn't have lied to me like that."  
  
It was a moment that many parents dread but perhaps expect- the moment that they fall off of the pedestal that their children place them upon. For a child, there's an unspoken expectation of perfection that they assign to a parent. It's an unfair expectation, really, but something that provides comfort and security in a crazy and insecure world. But when this "illusion of perfection" is shattered, the child is left with the truth- His parent is human.  
  
Gary gazed into his son's eyes and instead of seeing the very tall, self- assured young adult, he saw his little boy. Gary saw the little boy who was afraid of the dark. Gary saw the little boy who was afraid of thunderstorms because he believed that the roaring meant that he had done something to make God angry with him. Gary saw the little boy that he had taught how to ride a bike:  
  
"You can do it, Garrett. Just hold on to the handles and pedal. I've got you. That's it, son. You're doing great. Daddy won't let you fall. I've got you."  
  
And he never let Garrett fall. Garrett had always trusted him.  
  
"I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you something about me, something about my life that happened a long time ago. Maybe I was wrong not to tell you, maybe I made a mistake, but it was a decision that your mother and I made because we felt that we were doing what was best for you."  
  
"Just like when you sent me away after Kathryn died? I wanted to help...I wanted to help you and Mom but you wouldn't let me. You sent me away. You shut me out." Garrett said, a trace of hurt in his voice.  
  
"We didn't send you away to punish you. You know that, don't you?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Garrett, you were ten years old. We knew that we couldn't take care of you after Kathryn...after it happened. That's why we sent you to live with your grandparents for a short time. We did it because we loved you."  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"Did you love her?"  
  
"Howzat?"  
  
"Marcia. Did you love her?"  
  
"Of course I loved her. I loved her very much."  
  
"More than you love Mom?"  
  
"Garrett."  
  
"It's just that, well, I remember Mom telling me that God gives everyone a special soul mate and that when you find this person, you marry them. Mom said that great-granddad Jeff found his in great-grandmom Ginger and they were married for over fifty years. And when great-granddad died, great- grandmom was so heartbroken that she couldn't live without him. She died just two weeks after him. You had to have believed that Marcia was your soul mate or else you wouldn't have married her, right?"  
  
"Yes. When I married Marcia, I loved her very much and I thought that she was my soul mate, but I was wrong. We both were wrong. Son, we were very different people who wanted different things. Only thing was, we didn't realize that until it was too late."  
  
Another brief silence.  
  
"What happened, Dad? I mean, between you and Marcia? I want to know. Tell me, please?" 


	3. Chapter 12 Waking The Sleeping Ghosts

Chapter 12- Waking The Sleeping Ghosts  
  
There was a time, very long ago, when the ghosts from his past never slept. They were aggressive and merciless tormentors that shadowed Gary throughout the day and shared his bed every night, insinuating themselves into his dreams. The smell of roses emanating from a nondescript brown paper bag and perfuming the stale and weary air in a subway car with its fragrant scent. A small smile framing the corners of his mouth; the love that he felt for his wife consuming him especially today as he anticipated a romantic and passionate celebration of their wedding anniversary. Walking the path towards his house; whistling happily; the calm before the storm, the moment before his dream was shattered. Then, he calls out to her, still happy, still expectant, still painfully oblivious as to what was about to come. She opens the window upstairs; the window creaks. He sees her and smiles. She says nothing. "Hon. Hon. Happy Anniversary." He says. But she doesn't return his words with her own loving declarations. Instead, he hears a "heads up" as his suitcase is hurled unceremoniously out of the window. Confusion. Shock. Disbelief.  
  
Then he wakes up. Only he doesn't. Because the ghosts of pain and rejection remind him that his nightmare wasn't an unrealized manifestation born in a troubled subconscious, but a memory, a painful memory branded into his brain and heart. And every time he witnesses a couple walking down the street holding hands or exchanging loving gazes or parents pushing their baby in a stroller, the dull ache in his heart throbs and he's realizes what he'll never have.  
  
It took a long time for these ghosts to stop bothering him, for them to finally fall asleep. And while he didn't say it, after getting The Paper and observing potential romantic opportunities slip through his fingers, Gary resigned himself to the painful fact that he'd never have his "American Dream" of a wife and child. Maybe The Paper had its own secrets besides for mysterious origins. Maybe the early edition had been watching and waiting all along before it presented the opportunity for its tragic hero to have his long awaited romantic destiny fulfilled.  
  
He found her in a television studio when he saved her life from a falling studio light. The moment when they first gazed into each other's eyes was more magical (and more terrifying) than having the pulse of the future in his hands via a futuristic newspaper. The ghosts woke up again; all his old insecurities resurfaced with a vengeance. Loving another person so much that the emotion consumed him. The fear of rejection. Anticipating that the other shoe would drop even as she professed her love for him. Did he have the right to finally have what he always wanted? And if this was a cruel dream, if she were just a beautiful apparition, a figment of his imagination, he didn't want to wake up. Not ever.  
  
But she was real and despite the difficulties that they initially experienced in traveling towards the road of matrimony and the unexpected tragedies that life threw at them, they had spent over twenty years as husband and wife. They loved each other very much. And in these twenty years, not once had he worried about coming home to find that the locks had been changed in his absence and that their marriage was being discarded by her.  
  
The ghosts had fallen into a deep sleep.  
  
"What happened, Dad? I mean, between you and Marcia? I want to know. Tell me, please?" Garrett pleaded.  
  
It was time. It was time to awaken the sleep ghosts. The memories were painful and had left indelible scars upon his soul. These were memories that he never planned to share with his son.  
  
Gary nervously ran his fingers through his hair. His throat felt dry under the weight of this revelation. "Marcia...Marcia and I were...we were very different people who wanted very different things." Gary began slowly. "Marcia was a very complicated woman. She was smart and she was very competitive. She wanted to be the best at everything that she did. And a lot of people thought that she was arrogant and snobbish, but there was another side of her that others didn't see, I don't know, maybe she didn't want them to see it. She had a wonderful sense of humor. She had this laugh that was...well, it was hard to describe, but when she laughed, it kinda filled you up inside and made you happy. She'd laugh at the stupidest things and you just wanted to laugh with her. And she loved to dance. She was a great dancer. She especially loved salsa music. She'd drag me onto the dance floor, but I could never keep up with her. And she used to love going to these horror movies and she'd tell me that they were ridiculous and cheesy, but would scream louder than anyone in the theater at the fake blood and gore. In some ways she was like this vulnerable little girl who wanted to be loved and protected. Her dad was a pretty cold man. I remember her telling me that he wasn't affectionate. I think that she wanted to be the best not only for herself, but also to earn her father's love. She never understood that a child shouldn't have to earn a parent's love. We'd have these wonderful long conversations where we'd talk about everything, shared our dreams. We both wanted children, at least I thought that she did. I mean, a guy just kinda figures that the woman that he loves would want to be the mother of his children. Anyway, I knew that she wanted to go to law school. The plan was that I'd work as a stockbroker so that we'd have the money for her to go to law school and after a few years, once she established herself at a law firm, we'd start our family."  
  
"You were a broker?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Garrett let a laugh that helped to ease some of the tension in the room.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Dad, but it's just that...I can't imagine you as a broker. You hated math as much as I did. I remember when I was having trouble with trig that you hired Ms. Callahan to tutor me."  
  
"Renee was always a math genius ever since we were kids growing up in Hickory. And I hated being a broker, but I didn't have a choice. We needed the money. Marcia's dad had offered her money, but I wasn't about to accept his offer. The way he felt about me, I wasn't about to let him believe for a second that I couldn't provide for my wife. He didn't like me from the moment he met me."  
  
A brief silence.  
  
"Kinda like Grandfather Jeffrey."  
  
"He told you about that?"  
  
"Yeah. When I told him that I wanted to go to law school, he said that to be a good lawyer, you needed to have all the evidence and that you should never jump to conclusions without full disclosure of the facts. Then he said that sometimes one forgets this rule in life and how they can make big mistakes because of that. He told me that when he first met you that he didn't like you, couldn't understand what Mom saw in you, and was upset that Mom wanted to marry you. Was it because he found out that you were divorced?"  
  
"Yes, that was partly the reason, I guess."  
  
"And was it also because of The Paper?"  
  
"Your grandfather didn't find out about The Paper until after your mother and I got married and he was very supportive after we told him." Gary revealed.  
  
Garrett hadn't told Grandfather Jeffrey yet that he was now handling The Paper because he had worried about his grandfather's reaction to the news that he was moonlighting as a hero while attending law school.  
  
"I think that your grandfather was just worried that I'd hurt your mother. To be fair to him, I guess I can understand his position a little. He didn't really know me. All he knew was that I was this divorced guy who had fallen in love with his daughter. It was a tough time for all of us, but things did eventually work out. Your grandfather got to know me and he realized that I'd never hurt your mother. And he helped me through a very bad situation for which I'll always be grateful." Gary saw the expression on Garrett's face so he quickly added. "That's a story for another time. Anyway, Mr. Roberts never gave me the benefit of the doubt the way Mr. Metcalf had. I think that he was waiting for our marriage to fail so that he could tell Marcia that he was right about me all along, that I wasn't good enough for her. Marcia craved her father's approval so much and that also put a strain on our marriage. After she graduated from law school, she got a job at one of the large firms down town. She was a great lawyer. She worked very hard. And I was very proud of her. I supported her desire to climb the corporate ladder because I knew that made her happy. Maybe I was naive. Maybe I was stupid, but I didn't believe...I didn't think that we had to sacrifice having our family just because she was a career woman. But every time we talked about starting a family, she always came up with some excuse. She'd say 'maybe next year. I'm not ready yet. Maybe next year.' "  
  
Garrett saw that Gary had a far away look in his eyes. "Dad?"  
  
The sound of his son's voice awoke Gary from his reverie. Gary paused briefly before continuing. "We had been married several years and this one anniversary, I planned...I wanted it to be special for us. I was going to cook a romantic dinner. It was going to be wonderful. Except...except it wasn't."  
  
"It wasn't?"  
  
"No. We never had that romantic dinner. Instead, I came home to find that Marcia had changed the locks on the house. When I called up to her, you know, thinking that maybe I was just having trouble with my key, she opened the upstairs window. And a moment later she...she throws my suitcase out the window. A week later, she served me with divorce papers. Just like that, it was over. I had wanted to talk things over with her, work out our problems, but she never gave me the chance." 


End file.
